Work saves us from melancholy. Pleasure exposes us to it.
Worrying is as futile as boredom, but harder work.
Working cuts down on both folly and wisdom.
Grandiosity lessens as work proceeds.
I am invigorated by work, wasted by pleasure.
Nothing easier than to confuse busyness with goodness.
Work at first rescues us, then ravages us.
Sensuality takes planning and work.
Boredom and fear keep us working and obeying the laws.
The pleasantest part of work is having done it.
I like what I do for a living. I also like NOT doing it--perhaps even more.
