I'm not very happy idle. There's always this voice in my head that says, 'I should be writing.'
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
Idleness does drive me crazy, but I'd rather read or write than do anything just to work. A kind of respect has been instilled in me for acting: I love it too much to ever have a bad relationship with it.
I think of myself as naturally idle. The trouble is, the 'nothing' that I do every day is not really nothing. I potter. I muck about with emails, I make coffee, I fiddle with my computer to make sure that the book I haven't started writing is perfectly synced across all platforms and devices.
I think being idle is quite hard for me to do.
I hate being idle - there are still so many things I want to do.
As we must account for every idle word, so must we account for every idle silence.
Idleness is only the refuge of weak minds.
Idleness is an inlet to disorder, and makes way for licentiousness. People who have nothing to do are quickly tired of their own company.
I think it must be awful not to work. My only point in being idle is to rest so that I can work more... I'm only unhappy when I'm not working.
I'm very unhappy when I'm not writing.
Idleness is only a coarse name for my infinite capacity for living in the present.
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