The minutes, the hours, the weeks, months and years will drag along.
Idleness, idleness, idleness. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
No human smile or voice to measure time.
Sleep, bread and water; sleep, bread and water.
Gradually madness will come and bring relief.
Be glad that you are active, you who work willingly.
And you young man who rebel against labor and long for the chance to do nothing, study Bresci's case and take up your load gladly.
The decree condemning us to earn our bread in the sweat of our brow was merciful, not stern. For that same power which sentences all to work also causes happiness to be found in work alone.
THE OWNER OF A GOLDEN MOUNTAIN
An old man sits at the end of his life, with money piled up on all sides of him. Years ago he was working hard. All his ability was strained to the utmost pushing back those who strove to pass him on the road up the golden mountain.