Do you call these men idle — the ones who make careers out of their combs and mirrors? What about those who spend their entire lives writing songs, listening to music, and learning melodies? They twist their voices through pointless musical runs when nature meant voices to sound best when used simply and directly. Their fingers are always tapping out rhythms to whatever tune is stuck in their head. Even when they're called to handle serious or tragic matters, you can hear them humming under their breath. These people aren't truly at leisure. They're just busy with trivial things.
Do you call these men idle, who make a business of the comb and looking-glass? what of those who devote their lives to composing, hearing, and learning songs, who twist their voices, intended by Nature to sound best and simplest when used straightforwardly, through all the turns of futile melodies: whose fingers are always beating time to some music on which they are inwardly meditating; who, when invited to serious and even sad business may be heard humming an air to themselves?—such people are not at leisure, but are busy about trifles.