sloth

It may be easier to believe that we remain lean because we're virtuous and we get fat because we're not, but the evidence simply says otherwise. Virtue has little more to with our weight than our height. When we grow taller, it's hormones and enzymes that are promoting growth, and we consume more calories than we expend as a result. Growth is the cause - increased appetite and decreased energy expenditure (gluttony and sloth) are the effects. When we grow fatter, the same is true as well.We don't get fat because we overeat; we overeat because were fat.

Shrink wrapped ideas and prefabricated thoughts are a result of sloth and laziness. ("Prêt-_-penser")

The trouble with psychics is that they convince you that you get this future no matter what you do. It is as though you can cheat the universe out of your experiences, that you need only tweak something here or there to live happily ever after. It allows for spiritual sloth in the certainty of providence.

Violence is spiritual junk food, and boredom is spiritual anorexia.

I've heard that hard work never killed anyone, but I say why take the chance?

He shook his head in exasperation. __re you sure you__e not a Succubus? You seem really obsessed with the sin of lust.___t__ a good sin. I like gluttony an awful lot, too. Sloth has its moments, but I just don__ understand acedia at all. I mean, what the f**k is that anyway? Oh, and greed is good, to quote Gordon Gekko. Anger, envy and pride,_ I ticked them off on my fingers. __ don__ often have much use for them. It__ a shortcoming that I__ hoping to correct in the next millennium or two. I__ not very old; I can__ be expected to have mastered them all yet.___ think you__e worked too hard on some of those,_ he said dryly. __aybe you should switch over to virtues instead. Give yourself a much needed break.__irtues? Yeah, right.__irtues are too difficult,_ I told him, shaking my head. __ook how old you are and you__e hardly made a dent in them. I__l admit, you seem to have zeal nailed, as well as faith and temperance. Self control? I__e got my doubts based on your recent actions. I__ not seeing the kindness, love or generosity, either. That humility thing seems to be pretty far beyond your reach, too. Really, really far. I__ sorry to tell you this, but from what I can see, the sin of pride is a major component of your character. Dude, you__e f**king old. You should have these things pretty well ticked off your shopping list by now. I__ seriously disappointed. Seriously.

Why do I do anything?' she says. 'I'm educated enough to talk myself out of any plan. To deconstruct any fantasy. Explain away any goal. I'm so smart I can negate any dream.

Stuff your eyes with wonder," he said, "live as if you'd drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. Ask no guarantees, ask for no security, there never was such an animal. And if there were, it would be related to the great sloth which hangs upside down in a tree all day every day, sleeping its life away. To hell with that," he said, "shake the tree and knock the great sloth down on his ass.

Lazy people, the truly lazy people live on information, strategies, ideas, plans and many other criticals, simply to spend one hour of hard work and make the rest feel like a breeze.

Pico Mundo is a prosperous town. But no degree of prosperity can be sufficient to eliminate all misfortune, and sloth is impervious to opportunity.

Descending the endless stairs for the sixth time, Mr. Lecky thought of all the goods those closed doors hid. Fantastic was the discouragement it caused him. Aware of such variety and great quantity, Mr. Lecky saw the danger of forgetting or never even imagining things which, discovered, he would want. Everlastingly midway between two equal errors, to which could he cleave? To have time for everything, one must make haste. To gain access to everything, one must be patient.Moreover, hasty, or patient as Job, with what great labor would Mr. Lecky carry up on his back all he got! Making, as he was every moment, the climb back longer, giving, as he did with each step down, consent to toil more and more severe, he could anticipate vaguely and abhor another possibility. Curious and insubstantial as his fearing not to find what he could not think of, was his resentment of a perhaps coming time when he might, in revolt against the inanity of exertion, live meanly and miserably, with no object but somehow to make what was already at hand suffice for him. Against this insidious ill chance there exists no defense, since so often what today is detested will appear tomorrow - though surely still detestable - good and wise.

[I]f thou loiter when thou shouldst labour, thou wilt lose the crown. O fall to work then speedily and seriously, and bless God that thou hast yet time to do it; and though that which is past cannot be recalled, yet redeem the time now by doubling thy diligence (260).

Stop sleeping, Get to work! You will have much time to sleep when you die.

Have you ever heard about string theory? Everything is tied together, works together, shrinks, expands, and breathes together. Maybe we're on the same string, baby. We're right beside each other. We're the same thing." His mouth takes mine. He pulls away. "My blood, your blood..." Another kiss...his voice hot on my cheek. "One day I tried to calculate the odds of how we met. The odds of February 14. There are no odds. For us, there are no odds because it isn't chance." - Kellan

You know, sloth is a sin," he says softly. "I prefer to think of it as an adorable animal.

The problem with spiritual procrastination is the uncertain time of the deadline.

A good work ethic is not so much a concern for hard work but rather one for responsibility. There have been a great many men and women who have in fact used work or hustle or selfish ambition as an escape from real responsibility, an escape from purpose. In matters such as these, the hard worker is just as dysfunctional as the sloth.

And then came the three-toed sloth. Stupid sloth. It was a crazy-looking beastie, all arms and bristling grey fur; its body was a blob, the kind of shape a six-year-old would draw for a pig, and its face was flattened like a racoon that had run full tilt into a brick wall. A triangular stub of a nose jutted out at an angle beneath a fringe that must have been difficult to see through. In fact, from side-on it looked disturbingly like John Lennon.