“Work and boredom. — Seeking work for the sake of wages – in this, nearly all people in civilized countries are alike; to all of them, work is just a means and not itself the end, which is why they are unrefined in their choice of work, provided it yields an ample reward. Now there are rare individuals who would rather perish than work without taking pleasure in their work: they are fastidious, difficult to satisfy, and have no use for ample rewards if the work is not itself the reward of rewards. To this rare breed belong artists and contemplative people of all kinds, but also the idlers who spend their lives hunting, travelling, in love affairs, or on adventures. All of them want work and misery as long as it is joined with pleasure, and the heaviest, hardest work, if need be. Otherwise they are resolutely idle, even if it spells impoverishment, dishonour, and danger to life and limb. They do not fear boredom as much as work without pleasure; indeed, they need a lot of boredom if their work is to succeed. For the thinker and for all inventive spirits, boredom is that unpleasant ‘calm’ of the soul that precedes a happy voyage and cheerful breezes; he has to endure it, must await its effect on him – precisely that is what lesser natures are totally unable to achieve! To fend off boredom at any price is vulgar, just as work without pleasure is vulgar. Perhaps Asians are distinguished as above Europeans by their capacity for a longer, deeper calm; even their narcotics work slowly and require patience, in contrast to the revolting suddenness of the European poison, alcohol.”

— Friedrich Nietzsche,
The Gay Science (42)

“Leisure and Idleness. — There is a savagery in the manner in which the Americans strive after gold: and the breathless hurry of their work – the characteristic vice of the new world – already begins to infect old Europe, and makes it savage also, spreading over it a strange lack of intellectuality. One is now ashamed of repose: even long reflection almost causes remorse of conscience. Thinking is done with a stop-watch, as dining is done with the eyes fixed on the financial newspaper; we live like people who are continually ‘afraid of letting opportunities slip.’ ‘Better do anything whatever, than nothing’ – this principle also is a noose with which all culture and all higher taste may be strangled. And just as all form obviously disappears in this hurry of workers, so the sense for form itself, the ear and the eye for the melody of movement, also disappear. The proof of this is the clumsy perspicuity which is now everywhere demanded in all positions where a person would like to be sincere with his fellows, in intercourse with friends, women, relatives, children, teachers, pupils, leaders and princes, – one has no longer either time or energy for ceremonies, for roundabout courtesies, for any esprit in conversation, or for any otium whatever. For life in the hunt for profit continually forces a person to expend his spirit to the point of exhaustion in continual pretence or out-smarting or forestalling others: the true virtue nowadays is to do something in a shorter time than another person. And so there are only rare hours of sincere intercourse permitted: in them, however, people are tired, and would not only like ‘to let themselves go,’ but to stretch their legs out wide in awkward style. The way people write their letters nowadays is quite in keeping with the age; their style and spirit will always be the true ‘sign of the times.’ If there be still enjoyment in society and in art, it is enjoyment such as over-worked slaves provide for themselves. Oh, this moderation in ‘joy’ of our cultured and uncultured classes! Oh, this increasing suspiciousness of all enjoyment!”

— Friedrich Nietzsche,
The Gay Science (329)

“Work is winning over more and more the good conscience to its side: the desire for enjoyment is already called ‘the need for recreation,’ and even begins to be ashamed of itself. ‘One owes it to one's health,’ people say, when they are caught at a picnic. Indeed, it might soon go so far that one could not yield to the desire for the vita contemplativa (that is to say, excursions with thoughts and friends), without self-contempt and a bad conscience. — Well! Formerly it was the very reverse: it was ‘action’ that suffered from a bad conscience. A man of good family concealed his work when need compelled him to labor. The slave labored under the weight of the feeling that he did something contemptible: – the ‘doing’ itself was something contemptible. ‘Only in otium and bellum is there nobility and honor:’ so rang the voice of ancient prejudice!”

— Friedrich Nietzsche,
The Gay Science (329)

 “I do not need the po­lice of mean­ing­less la­bor to reg­u­late me.”

— Henry David Thoreau,
Life Without Principle

“If a man walk in the woods for love of them half of each day, he is in dan­ger of be­ing re­gard­ed as a loaf­er; but if he spends his whole day as a spec­u­la­tor, shear­ing off those woods and mak­ing earth bald be­fore her time, he is es­teemed an in­dus­tri­ous and en­ter­pris­ing cit­i­zen. As if a town had no in­ter­est in its for­ests but to cut them down!”

— Henry David Thoreau,
Life Without Principle

“The aim of the la­bor­er should be, not to get his liv­ing, to get ‘a good job,’ but to per­form well a cer­tain work; and, even in a pe­cu­ni­ary sense, it would be econ­o­my for a town to pay its la­bor­ers so well that they would not feel that they were work­ing for low ends, as for a live­li­hood mere­ly, but for sci­en­tif­ic, or even mor­al ends. Do not hire a man who does your work for mon­ey, but him who does it for love of it.”

— Henry David Thoreau,
Life Without Principle

“It is re­mark­a­ble that there are few men so well em­ployed, so much to their minds, but that a lit­tle mon­ey or fame would com­mon­ly buy them off from their pres­ent pur­suit. I see ad­ver­tise­ments for ac­tive young men, as if ac­tiv­i­ty were the whole of a young man’s cap­i­tal. Yet I have been sur­prised when one has with con­fi­dence pro­posed to me, a grown man, to em­bark in some en­ter­prise of his, as if I had ab­so­lute­ly noth­ing to do, my life hav­ing been a com­plete fail­ure hith­er­to. What a doubt­ful com­pli­ment this to pay me! As if he had met me half-way across the ocean beat­ing up against the wind, but bound no­where, and pro­posed to me to go along with him!”

— Henry David Thoreau,
Life Without Principle

“The com­mu­ni­ty has no bribe that will tempt a wise man. You may raise mon­ey enough to tun­nel a moun­tain, but you can­not raise mon­ey enough to hire a man who is mind­ing his own busi­ness. An ef­fi­cient and val­u­a­ble man does what he can, wheth­er the com­mu­ni­ty pay him for it or not. The in­ef­fi­cient of­fer their in­ef­fi­cien­cy to the high­est bid­der, and are for­ev­er ex­pect­ing to be put in­to of­fice. One would sup­pose that they were rare­ly dis­ap­point­ed.”

— Henry David Thoreau,
Life Without Principle

“If I should sell both my fore­noons and af­ter­noons to so­ci­e­ty, as most ap­pear to do, I am sure that for me there would be noth­ing left worth liv­ing for. I trust that I shall nev­er thus sell my birth­right for a mess of pot­tage.”

— Henry David Thoreau,
Life Without Principle

“A man may be very in­dus­tri­ous, and yet not spend his time well. There is no more fa­tal blun­der­er than he who con­sumes the great­er part of his life get­ting his liv­ing. All great en­ter­prises are self-sup­port­ing. The po­et, for in­stance, must sus­tain his body by his po­et­ry, as a steam plan­ing-mill feeds its boil­ers with the shav­ings it makes. You must get your liv­ing by lov­ing.”

— Henry David Thoreau,
Life Without Principle

“Most men would feel in­sult­ed if it were pro­posed to em­ploy them in throw­ing stones over a wall, and then in throw­ing them back, mere­ly that they might earn their wag­es. But many are no more wor­thi­ly em­ployed now.”

— Henry David Thoreau,
Life Without Principle

“Mere­ly to come in­to the world the heir of a for­tune is not to be born, but to be still-born, rath­er.”

— Henry David Thoreau,
Life Without Principle