"Even though I'm resting I'm accomplishing something by sewing that shirt that I've been meaning to sew for weeks. And it's relaxing. It's so very meditative and quiet and enjoyable. But at least I'm producing something. I'm being productive in some way. I have a very hard time being completely idle."

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The only test of possession is use. The talent that is buried is not owned. The napkin and the hole in the ground are far more truly the man's property, because they are accomplishing something for him, slothful and shameful though it be. And what is a lost soul? Is it not one that God cannot use, or one that cannot use God? Trustless, prayerless, fruitless, loveless--is it not so far lost? So may a man have a soul that is lost and be dead while he lives.

— Maltbie Davenport Babcock