The full text of Warren Buffett's final shareholder letter: Live the life you want to be remembered for, leading Berkshire Hathaway for 60 years and then stepping down

Berkshire Hathaway’s third-quarter cash soared to a new high of $381.7 billion, with operating profit increasing 34% annually, providing ample financial flexibility before Warren Buffett’s year-end handover. (Background: Buffett openly admits feeling old, finding it increasingly difficult to think and read… First discussion on his decision to step down as Berkshire CEO) (Additional background: Buffett had early investments in Nu Holdings, a crypto-friendly bank in Brazil, with Berkshire Hathaway holding $1.2 billion in shares) The Oracle of Omaha, Warren Buffett, has led Berkshire Hathaway for over 60 years since 1965, delivering substantial returns and insights to shareholders and global investors. On Monday, local time, October 10th, Buffett officially wrote his final annual letter to shareholders and reaffirmed his plan to step down as CEO at the end of the year. Here is the full translation of that shareholder letter: To my fellow shareholders: I will no longer write Berkshire’s annual report, nor will I speak extensively at the annual meeting. As the British say, I am “drawing to a close.” Perhaps so. Greg Abel will become the boss at the end of the year. He is an excellent manager, a tireless worker, and an honest communicator. I wish him a long tenure. I will continue to talk about Berkshire with you and my children through my annual Thanksgiving messages. Berkshire’s individual shareholders are a very special group, remarkably generous in sharing their gains with those less fortunate. I enjoy staying connected with you. Please allow me to reflect on the past this year. Afterwards, I will discuss my plans for the distribution of my Berkshire shares. Finally, I will share some brief thoughts on business and personal matters. * * * * * * * * * * * * As Thanksgiving approaches, I am grateful and surprised to have the chance to live to 95 years old. When I was young, this outcome did not seem certain. Early on, I nearly died. It was 1938, and in Omaha, hospitals were classified as Catholic or Protestant, which seemed natural at the time. Our family doctor, Harley Hotz, was a friendly Catholic who would come with a black bag for consultations. Dr. Hotz called me “Skipper,” and his fees were never high. In 1938, when I had severe stomach pain, Dr. Hotz came over, examined me, and told me I would be fine by morning. Then he went home, had dinner, and played some bridge. However, Dr. Hotz couldn’t forget my somewhat peculiar symptoms. Later that evening, he took me to St. Catherine’s Hospital for emergency appendectomy. Over the next three weeks, I felt like I was in a monastery and began to enjoy my new “pulpit.” I liked to talk—yes, even then—and the nuns accepted me well. Moreover, my third-grade teacher, Miss Madsen, told me that 30 classmates each wrote me a letter. I probably threw away the boys’ letters but read the girls’ over and over; being hospitalized had its rewards. A highlight of my recovery—actually, most of the first week was quite dangerous—was the gift from my wonderful Aunt Edie. She brought me a set of very professional-looking fingerprinting tools, and I immediately collected the fingerprints of all the nuns caring for me. (I might have been the first Protestant kid they saw at St. Catherine’s Hospital, unaware of what was to come.) My theory—completely crazy, of course—is that someday, some nuns would turn bad, and the FBI would discover they had neglected to collect their fingerprints. In the 1930s, the FBI and its director, J. Edgar Hoover, were respected in America. I imagined Mr. Hoover himself would come to Omaha to inspect my collection. I further fantasized that J. Edgar and I would quickly identify and arrest that rebellious nun. National fame seemed imminent. Of course, my fantasies never materialized. But ironically, years later, it turned out I should have collected J. Edgar’s fingerprints himself, as he later became infamous for abuse of power. Well, that was Omaha in the 1930s, when my friends and I longed for a sled, a bicycle, a baseball glove, and a model electric train. Let’s look at some other kids of that era who grew up nearby and had a huge impact on my life, though I didn’t know them for a long time. First, I’ll mention Charlie Munger, who has been my best partner for 64 years. In the 1930s, Charlie lived just a block away from the house I have owned and lived in since 1958. I almost became friends with Charlie early on. He was six and two-thirds years older than me, and in the summer of 1940, he worked at my grandfather’s grocery store, earning $2 a day for ten hours of work. (Frugality is deeply ingrained in Buffett’s blood.) The next year, I worked there similarly, but I didn’t meet Charlie until 1959, when he was 35 and I was 28. After serving in World War II, Charlie graduated from Harvard Law School and then moved permanently to California. However, Charlie always says that his early years in Omaha were crucial to shaping his character. Over the past 60-plus years, Charlie has had a huge influence on me. He is the best teacher I could have and the most protective “big brother.” We have disagreements but have never fought. His dictionary doesn’t include “I told you so.” In 1958, I bought my first—and only—house. Of course, it was in Omaha, about two miles from where I grew up (in the broad sense), less than two blocks from my in-laws’ house, about six blocks from Buffett’s Grocery, and a 6-7 minute drive from my office where I worked for 64 years. Let’s also talk about another Omaha native, Stan Lipsey. Stan sold the Omaha Sun (weekly) to Berkshire in 1968, and ten years later, at my request, moved to Buffalo. Berkshire subsidiary, the Buffalo Evening News, was then engaged in a fierce battle with its rival, which published the only Sunday paper in Buffalo. We were losing ground. Stan ultimately created our new Sunday product, which in some years, turned our previously severely loss-making paper into a business that earned over 100% annual pre-tax returns on our $33 million investment. This was very important money for Berkshire in the early 1980s. Stan grew up about five blocks from my house. One of Stan’s neighbors was Walt Scott. You may remember that Walt brought MidAmerican Energy to Berkshire in 1999. He was also a highly respected Berkshire director until his death in 2021 and a very close friend. For decades, Walt was a charitable leader in Nebraska, leaving his mark on Omaha and the entire state. Walt attended Benson High School.