Have people well observed just how much a genuinely religious life (both its favourite task of microscopic self-examination and that tender calmness which is called "prayer," a constant preparedness for the "coming of God") requires an outward leisure or half-leisure. I mean leisure with a good conscience, from time immemorial, from blood, to which the aristocratic feeling that work is dishonourable is not entirely foreign that is, the feeling that work makes the soul and body coarse?
Too bad FLG can't get 30 fucking pages together on the fucking topic.
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