The Iceberg, and: On Work

The Iceberg

Diogenes lived in a tub. He was a cantankerous old fart, compared not unfavorably to dogs. It was an early year—though of course no one knew that at the time. When Alexander met Diogenes, he said: Had I not been Alexander, I should have liked to be Diogenes. Poor Alexander. It makes you think, doesn’t it, how a man can never really see himself in bloom.

On Work

Diogenes woke early to roll his tub up and down the street. The people scoffed. They hurried to their gainful employs, mentally comparing him to a fruit rind. Diogenes hardly noticed. There was no time for such trivialities. Back and forth he rolled his tub, parading diligence like a bright red kite.