Quotes About Work

A citi inseamn? s?-l la?i pe altul s? trudeasc? pentru tine. Cea mai ginga?? form? de exploatare.

Avînd ÅŸansa de-a nu fi practicat vreodat? o meserie ÅŸi nicide-a fi lucrat la c?rÅ£i serioase, am avut de-a lungul anilorenorm de mult timp: o favoare rezervat?, în principiu,cerÅŸetorilor ÅŸi femeilor. CerÅŸetori sînt tot mai mulÅ£i, îns? einu-ÅŸi dau osteneala s? scrie; cît despre femei, în zilelenoastre ele se duc la serviciu, la birou — infern idiotizant.

Din toate epocile istorice, n-aÈ™ putea munci cu sufletul împ?cat decât ca sclav, pe vremea când faraonii în?lÈ›au piramidele. S? ridici la lespezi sub lovituri de bici, dar s? le vezi încununate de veÈ™nicie È™i s? simÈ›i vidul ce se naÈ™te în jurul piramidelor, din dezertarea timpului! Ultimul sclav egiptean era mai aproape de veÈ™nicie decât oricare filosof al Occidentului.

To that friend who tells me he is bored because he cannot work, I answer that boredom is a higher state, and that we debase it by relating it to the notion of work.

In a work of psychiatry, only the patients' remarks interest me; in a work of criticism, only the quotations.

In a Gnostic work of the second century of our era, we read: 'The prayer of a melancholy man will never have the strength to rise unto God.'...Since man prays only in despondency, we may deduce that no prayer has ever reached its destination.

Indolence saves us from prolixity and thereby from the shamelessness inherent in production.

When I torment myself a little too much for not working, I tell myself that I might just as well be dead and that then I would be working still less...

El hombre ha hecho de la actividad un principio de destrucción más que de creación. Ha convertido la laboriosidad en desgracia, el trabajo en mal y la prisa en maldición. El hombre es una hormiga bestial.

So long as I give myself up to physical exercise, manual labor, I am happy, fulfilled; once I stop, I am seized by dizziness, and I can think of nothing but giving up for good.

The artist is nothing without the gift, but the gift is nothing without work.

A person who has not done one half his day's work by ten o'clock, runs a chance of leaving the other half undone.

His Labor is a Chant -- his Idleness -- a Tune -- oh, for a Bee's experience of Clovers, and of Noon!

It's a funny thing - when I'm crazed with work, spending time with my children relaxes me. Yet, at the end of a long weekend with them, the very thing I need to relax is a little work and time away from them!

Emancipation of the toilers can be the work only of the toilers themselves.

Sometimes inspiration hits in the middle of the night and I want to get up and work on it. It's that spark of immediacy. For me, it's a tap which is on all the time.

After all, there were bills to pay, shopping to do, kids to raise, and sports to watch, so who had time for anything else?

Work is the price which is paid for reputation.

The artisan, the man of the proletariat, who uses his hands, his tongue, his back, his right arm, his five fingers, to live—well, this very man, who should be the first to economize his vital principle, outruns his strength, yokes his wife to some machine, wears out his child, and ties him to the wheel.

We have to labour in the fields as hard as men do, and then on top of that, struggle to bear and raise our children. As for the men, their work ends when they've finished in the fields. If you are born into this world, it is best you were born a man. Born as women, what good do we get? We only toil in the fields and in the home until our very vaginas shrivel.

There's nothing as senseless as being harried at a simple do-what's-needed part-time job.

The only thing to do was to work steadily, humbly, and carefully, without trying to complicate things or make them other than what they were.

As time passed, I began to sense that the sleepiness I'd felt—sleepiness so fierce it was almost amusing—was gradually, ever so gradually, draining from my body. My feet were swollen, my room got all messy, dark pockets formed under my eyes. I didn't particularly want the money, the work was pointless, and so it was extremely difficult.

My everyday job is about superficial beauty, but when I'm not working I prefer to work on my inner beauty - I read a lot, I try to learn.