Those who make the worst use of their time are the first to

Jean de la Bruyère, the sharp-eyed moralist of seventeenth-century France, once wrote: “Those who make the worst use of their time are the first to complain of its shortness.” In this single sentence lies a mirror held up to all of humanity, exposing both our folly and our lament. We squander our days in idleness, distraction, and trivial pursuit, only to cry out in shock when life races past us. What is wasted with careless hands is mourned with desperate voices, as though the fault lies not in ourselves but in the swiftness of the years.

The meaning of this wisdom is plain yet piercing: the brevity of life is most painful to those who fail to use it well. For the diligent, the purposeful, and the wise, life feels rich and abundant, every hour filled with meaning. But for the slothful, the restless, and the indulgent, even long years seem insufficient, for they are frittered away on emptiness. Thus, the cry of “too short!” often rises not from life’s true brevity, but from one’s own waste of its treasures.

History offers many examples of this truth. Consider the Roman Emperor Nero, who spent his reign in luxury and cruelty, squandering his days in theatrical vanity. Though he lived in power, his life felt hollow, and he lamented his fall as though robbed of time. Contrast him with Marcus Aurelius, who, though also emperor, filled his hours with duty, reflection, and wisdom. For Marcus, even amidst hardship, life was sufficient, because he used it well. The same span of years can be either abundant or fleeting, depending on how it is lived.

Another witness is the story of Charles Dickens. In his youth he worked ceaselessly, filling his days with writing, performance, and reform. Though his life was not especially long, he left behind novels, characters, and wisdom that endure centuries later. Dickens never complained of life’s shortness, for he had poured every drop of his time into creation. His example proves that those who labor with purpose live long in their deeds, while those who waste time live short in their regrets.

The lesson for us is this: do not waste the hours you have been given, for they are more precious than gold. The one who spends them idly will one day find them gone and mourn their passing. But the one who fills them with work, love, learning, and service will discover that life, though brief, is abundant. When used well, time is sufficient; when wasted, no time is ever enough.

In practice, this means guarding yourself against the small thieves of time—distraction, gossip, resentment, and aimless delay. Each hour is a coin placed in your hand by fate; spend it wisely, for it cannot be reclaimed. Rise each day with intention, and when the sun sets, ask yourself: did I spend this day in vain, or did I plant a seed for tomorrow? By this daily measure, you will ensure that your life is not consumed in waste but multiplied in worth.

Therefore, children of tomorrow, hear the warning of Jean de la Bruyère: time is not too short; it is only misused. Do not join the chorus of those who complain, but join the company of those who act. Fill your hours with purpose, and your life will feel vast, even if the years be few. Waste your hours, and your life will feel fleeting, even if the years be many. The difference lies not in time itself, but in how you use it. And so, live wisely, that when the end comes, you may depart in peace, saying not, “Life was short,” but, “Life was full.”