A great book on value investing from a master of that art

Forrest Berwind “Bill” Tweedy was a strange man. No one knew where he came from or when he was born. He wore suspenders, had a bushy moustache and a big potbelly. He never married or had kids.

He had his lunch at the same place at the same time every single day. At his cluttered roll-top desk at 52 Wall Street, Tweedy was busy writing...