When, in 1932, Claude Hopkins died of heart failure, at the age of sixty-six, The New York Times described him as “the man who had written $100 million worth of copy.” Despite his success, however, when Hopkins was near death, he claimed with his peculiar piety that “money means nothing to me, save that my Scotch instinct rebels at waste.” He had also ended his autobiography on a strange note: “The happiest are those who live closest to nature, an essential to advertising success.” It was an odd sentiment from one foremost in the effort to replace nature with advertising.

Tim Wu, The Attention Merchants, loc. 252