The world seemed to stand still for a moment, until the flock had disappeared. And the people, didn’t they feel a certain weakness glide through them then? They went back to their work, but only after catching their breaths; something had spoken to them from the beyond.
—Hamsun
They were fortunate at Sellanrå, every fall and spring, in seeing the graylag geese sailing in formation over the wilderness and hearing their chatter high in the air—it sounded like someone talking in delirium.
A satiety of doing and seeing the same things creeps up on some people– it’s not quite a hatred of life, but an annoyance with it, into which we slip with philosophy itself pushing us, when we say to ourselves, "How much longer with these same things?"
Sightings of certain animals necessitated a blessing, if one saw, for example, “an elephant, an ape, or a long-tailed ape”. Upon these, one says, “Blessed is He who makes strange creatures”.
— Elpidorou (ed.), The History and Philosophy of Boredom
Johnsen suggests that boredom arises when the kinetic tension between two sides of the equation becomes unbalanced, and we lose sight of either the melody that ties everything together or of the variety that adorns that unifying melody.
Lead me, O Zeus, and thou O Destiny,
The way that I am bid by you to go:
To follow I am ready. If I choose not,
I make myself a wretch, and still must follow.