The first is the terrible danger of becoming that most odious
and least supportable of persons--a prig. Now a prig is a pert
fellow who gives himself airs of superior wisdom. A prig is a
pompous fool who has gone out for a ceremonial walk, and without
knowing it has lost an important part of his attire, namely, his
sense of humour. A prig is a tedious individual who, having made a
discovery, is so impressed by his discovery that he is capable of
being gravely displeased because the entire world is not also
impressed by it. Unconsciously to become a prig is an easy and a
fatal thing.
Hence, when one sets forth on the enterprise of using all one's
time, it is just as well to remember that one's own time, and not
other people's time, is the material with which one has to deal;
that the earth rolled on pretty comfortably before one began to
balance a budget of the hours, and that it will continue to roll on
pretty comfortably whether or not one succeeds in one's new role of
chancellor of the exchequer of time. It is as well not to chatter
too much about what one is doing, and not to betray a too-pained
sadness at the spectacle of a whole world deliberately wasting so
many hours out of every day, and therefore never really living.
Pages:
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71