Tuesday, September 28, 2004

The vice of procrastination
We probably would all do well to tack on somewhere prominent this footnote from the novel Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell the soonest we find time:

Horace Tott spent an uneventful life in Cheshire always intending to write a large book on English magic, but never quite beginning. And so he died at seventy-four, still imagining he might begin next week, or perhaps the week after that.

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