I always arrive late at the office, but I make up for it by leaving early. - Charles Lamb

Not many sounds in life, and I include all urban and all rural sounds, exceed in interest a knock at the door.

Each day used to be individually felt by me in its reference to the foreign post days; in its distance from, or propinquity to, the next Sunday. I had my Wednesday feelings, my Saturday nights' sensations.

Rather was it not a series of seven uneasy days, spent in restless pursuit of pleasure, and a wearisome anxiety to find out how to make the most of them? Where was the quiet, where the promised rest?