Idleness
He slept under the moon
He basked under the sun
He lived a life of going to-do
And died with nothing done
The spring well and root of all vice
The canker of the mind
An appendix to nobility
The only refuge of weak minds
Discontinued labour is dangerous
They labour to kill time
And labour dire it is, and weary wore
The worst of all unrealities, an idle man
Man, the only being that can properly be called idle
But woe to the shepherd that left the flock
Go to the ant, thou sluggard
Consider her way and be wise
To do nothing makes one nothing
For an idle brain is the devil’s workshop
Life is full of care
We have no time to stand and stare
To do something- man’s inherit power
Absence of occupation is not rest
A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed
Why is man idle who can do something better
I am happiest when I am idle though
For it is well to lie fallow for a while
The lazy man gets round the sun
As quickly as the busy one
Eschew the idle life
Flee, flee from doing nought
For never was there idle brain
But breeds an idle thought
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