Good friends, good books and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.

Company you enjoy, reading that absorbs you, and a conscience that is not constantly nagging: that is a modest recipe for contentment, and a slightly mischievous one. A sleepy conscience might mean one that has little to reproach you for, or one that has learned to look away. Either way, a mind at ease is part of a good life.

You might ask how close your own days come to that simple picture. Are there friendships you have neglected, books you keep meaning to open? And if your conscience is restless, consider whether there is something you could put right, so that it can rest honestly rather than by being ignored.