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TitleHow To Stop Worrying And Start Living
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How To Stop Worrying And Start Living
Dale Carnegie


Copyright - 1948 / 1958 (This book)
First Printing - 1948
Library of Congress Catalog Number - Unknown
ISBN - Unknown
Scan Version : v 1.0
Format : Text with cover picture.
Date Scanned: Jan/15/2002
Posted to (Newsgroup): alt.binaries.e-book



Page 118

like a baby. The other children picked on me and poked fun at my big nose and said I
was dumb and called me an 'orphan brat'. I was hurt so badly that I wanted to fight
them; but Mr. Loftin, the farmer who had taken me in, said to me: 'Always remember
that it takes a bigger man to walk away from a fight than it does to stay and fight.' I
didn't fight until one day a kid picked up some chicken manure from the schoolhouse
yard and threw it in my face. I beat the hell out of him; and made a couple of friends.
They said he had it coming to him.

"I was proud of a new cap that Mrs. Loftin had bought me. One day one of the big girls
jerked it off my head and filled it with water and ruined it. She said she filled it with
water so that 'the water would wet my thick skull and keep my popcorn brains from

"I never cried at school, but I used to bawl it out at home. Then one day Mrs. Loftin
gave me some advice that did away with all troubles and worries and turned my
enemies into friends. She said: 'Ralph, they won't tease you and call you an "orphan
brat" any more if you will get interested in them and see how much you can do for
them.' I took her advice. I studied hard; and I soon headed the class. I was never envied
because I went out of my way to help them.

"I helped several of the boys write their themes and essays. I wrote complete debates
for some of the boys. One lad was ashamed to let his folks know that I was helping him.
So he used to tell his mother he was going possum hunting. Then he would come to Mr.
Loftin's farm and tie his dogs up in the barn while I helped him with his lessons. I wrote
book reviews for one lad and spent several evenings helping one of the girls on her

"Death struck our neighbourhood. Two elderly farmers died and one woman was
deserted by her husband. I was the only male in four families. I helped these widows for
two years. On my way to and from school, I stopped at their farms, cut wood for them,
milked their cows, and fed and watered their stock. I was now blessed instead of
cursed. I was accepted as a friend by everyone. They showed their real feelings when I
returned home from the Navy. More than two hundred farmers came to see me the first
day I was home. Some of them drove as far as eighty miles, and their concern for me
was really sincere. Because I have been busy and happy trying to help other people, I
have few worries; and I haven't been called an 'orphan brat' now for thirteen years."

Hooray for C.R. Burton! He knows how to win friends! And he also knows how to conquer
worry and enjoy life.

So did the late Dr. Frank Loope, of Seattle, Washington. He was an invalid for twenty-
three years. Arthritis. Yet Stuart Whithouse of the Seattle Star wrote me, saying: "I
interviewed Dr. Loope many times; and I have never known a man more unselfish or a
man who got more out of life."

Page 119

How did this bed-ridden invalid get so much out of life? I'll give you two guesses. Did he
do it by complaining and criticising? No. ... By wallowing in self-pity and demanding that
he be the centre of attention and everyone cater to him? No. ... Still wrong. He did it by
adopting as his slogan the motto of the Prince of Wales: "Ich dien"-"I serve." He
accumulated the names and addresses of other invalids and cheered both them and
himself by writing happy, encouraging letters. In fact, he organised a letter-writing club
for invalids and got them writing letters to one another. Finally, he formed a national
organisation called the Shut-in Society.

As he lay in bed, he wrote an average of fourteen hundred letters a year and brought
joy to thousands of invalids by getting radios and books for shut-ins.

What was the chief difference between Dr. Loope and a lot of other people? Just this:
Dr. Loope had the inner glow of a man with a purpose, a mission. He had the joy of
knowing that he was being used by an idea far nobler and more significant than himself,
instead of being as Shaw put it: "a self-centred, little clod of ailments and grievances
complaining that the world would not devote itself to making him happy."

Here is the most astonishing statement that I ever read from the pen of a great
psychiatrist. This statement was made by Alfred Adler. He used to say to his
melancholia patients: "You can be cured in fourteen days if you follow this prescription.
Try to think every day how you can please someone."

That statement sounds so incredible that I feel I ought to try to explain it by quoting a
couple of pages from Dr. Adler's splendid book, What Life Should Mean to You. (*) (By
the way, there is a book you ought to read.)


[*] Allen & Unwin Ltd.


"Melancholia," says Adler in What Life Should Mean to You: "is like a long-continued rage
and reproach against others, though for the purpose of gaining care, sympathy and
support, the patient seems only to be dejected about his own guilt. A melancholiac's
first memory is generally something like this: 'I remember I wanted to lie on the couch,
but my brother was lying there. I cried so much that he had to leave.'

"Melancholiacs are often inclined to revenge themselves by committing suicide, and the
doctor's first care is to avoid giving them an excuse for suicide. I myself try to relieve
the whole tension by proposing to them, as the first rule in treatment, 'Never do
anything you don't like.' This seems to be very modest, but I believe that it goes to the
root of the whole trouble If a melancholiac is able to do anything he wants, whom can
he accuse? What has he got to revenge himself for? 'If you want to go to the theatre,' I
tell him, 'or to go on a holiday, do it. If you find on the way that you don't want to, stop

Page 235

My father called on me unexpectedly. Like a good doctor, he discovered both the
trouble and the bottle, in a second. I confessed why I had to escape reality.

The dear old man then and there improvised a prescription. He explained to me that
there can be no real escape in alcohol or sleeping pills-or in any drug. For any sorrow
there is only one medicine, better and more reliable than all the drugs in the world:

How right my father was! Getting used to work might be hard. Sooner or later you
succeed. It has, of course, the quality of all the narcotics. It becomes habit-forming.
And once the habit is formed, sooner or later, it becomes impossible to break one's self
of it. I have never been able to break myself of the habit for fifty years.


[*] Reprinted with permission of the author, from Words to Live By-A Little Treasury of
Inspiration and Wisdom, published by Simon and Schuster, Inc., copyright, 1947, by
William Nichols.


I Was So Worried I Didn't Eat A Bite Of Solid Food For Eighteen Days
Kathryne Holcombe Farmer

Sheriff's Office, Mobile, Alabama

Three months ago, I was so worried that I didn't sleep for four days and nights; and I did
not eat a bite of solid food for eighteen days. Even the smell of food made me violently
sick. I cannot find words to describe the mental anguish I endured. I wonder whether
hell has any worse tortures than what I went through. I felt as if I would go insane or
die. I knew that I couldn't possibly continue living as I was.

The turning point of my life was the day I was given an advance copy of this book.
During the last three months, I have practically lived with this book, studying every
page, desperately trying to find a new way of life. The change that has occurred in my
mental outlook and emotional stability is almost unbelievable. I am now able to endure
the battles of each passing day. I now realise that in the past, I was being driven half
mad not by today's problems but by the bitterness and anxiety over something that had
happened yesterday or that I feared might happen tomorrow.

But now, when I find myself starting to worry about anything, I immediately stop and
start to apply some of the principles I learned from studying this book. If I am tempted
to tense up over something that must be done today, I get busy and do it immediately
and get it off my mind.

Page 236

When I am faced with the kind of problems that used to drive me half crazy, I now
calmly set about trying to apply the three steps outlined in Chapter 2, Part One. First, I
ask myself what is the worst that can possibly happen. Second, I try to accept it
mentally. Third, I concentrate on the problem and see how I can improve the worst
which I am already willing to accept- if I have to.

When I find myself worrying about a thing I cannot change -and do not want to accept-I
stop myself short and repeat this little prayer:

"God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference."

Since reading this book, I am really experiencing a new and glorious way of life. I am no
longer destroying my health and happiness by anxiety. I can sleep nine hours a night
now. I enjoy my food. A veil has been lifted from me. A door has been opened. I can
now see and enjoy the beauty of the world which surrounds me. I thank God for life now
and for the privilege of living in such a wonderful world.

May I suggest that you also read this book over: keep it by your bed: underscore the
parts that apply to your problems. Study it; use it. For this is not a "reading book" in the
ordinary sense; it is written as a "guidebook"-to a new way of life!


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