Students Who Don't Want To Get Anywhere

How Easily The Routine Of Sin Establishes Itself.

As A Child I Was A Great Liar. Fortunately My Mother Liked My Lies. I Promised Her Marvelous Things.

Granted: I Am An Inmate Of A Mental Hospital; My Keeper Is Watching Me, He Never Lets Me Out Of His Sight; There's A Peep-hole In The Door, And My Keeper's Eye Is The Shade Of Brown That Can Never See Through A Blue-eyed Type Like Me.

And When The Sun Goes Down And The Mood Comes Upon Me, I'll Watch The Play Of The Colors On The Water, Yield To The Fleetly Dissolving Images, And Turn Into Pure Feeling, All Soft And Nice.

If Work And Leisure Are Soon To Be Subordinated To This One Utopian Principle - Absolute Busyness - Then Utopia And Melancholy Will Come To Coincide: An Age Without Conflict Will Dawn, Perpetually Busy - And Without Consciousness.