On Work

When I was young, many years ago, I thought it best not to work too hard and if possible should spend days in pleasure. Subsequently I worked very hard and enjoyed working even though work makes us weary.

Some of us are lucky to have work, however wearisome. Some would love to have work, not for love of being weary but for the fruits of labour. Work, whether it is going to the office or factory or shop or walking five miles to fill a container with drinking water is part of existence for most of us; even those who have so much wealth that they do not labour turn the things they enjoy into work.

When we feel despair we wonder what advantage is all the work we do, and when we do not feel despair we know that the advantage is that work enables us to keep on living, and living until we die.

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