Toil is man's allotment; toil of brain, or toil of hands, or a grief that's more than either, the grief and sin of idleness.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
Toil without song is like a weary journey without an end.
Toleration is the greatest gift of the mind; it requires the same effort of the brain that it takes to balance oneself on a bicycle.
Toil and pleasure, dissimilar in nature, are nevertheless united by a certain natural bond.
We have control over the work of our hands, but little over the working of the soul. But yet we must yield to it, for without it we have nothing.
Love and despair go hand in hand.
For the dead there are no more toils.
Work is toil: what one does only to earn a living. If it gives pleasure, it is leisure.
The highest reward for a person's toil is not what they get for it, but what they become by it.
It would indeed be a sad misfortune if man were released from the necessity of work and struggle, for it is a well-known fact that organs which do not function atrophy; and according to the old saying, 'Idleness is the devil's workshop.'
Toil is no source of shame; idleness is shame.