ABSTRACT
In The Harried Leisure Class (1970), Staffan Linder begins with the following poem: Good-by, Sir, excuse me, I haven’t time. I’ll come back, I can’t wait, I haven’t time. I must end this letter—I haven’t time. I’d love to help you, but I haven’t time. I can’t accept, having no time. I can’t think, I can’t read, I’m swamped, I haven’t time. I’d like to pray, but I haven’t time. — Michel Quoist
