I have watched men cling to offices long past their use, thinking duty binds them when in truth only fear does. They stay while the roof rots and the walls lean, waiting for a command to depart that never comes. This is not prudence but a sickness of the spirit; they mistake their own decay for a station worth holding. I tell you, when the floor shakes beneath your feet, do not wait for the beams to snap. Go while the door still opens.

The reader must now audit his own life against this image. Where do you remain in a house that is already fallen? Is it a court where favour has fled, or a trade where skill is obsolete? Before nightfall, pack your cloak and leave. Do not wait for fortune to break the roof upon your head; be the one who steps out while there is still air to breathe.