I came across this in Aldous Huxley's novel, Island.
"I do muscular work, because I have muscles; and if I don't use my muscles I shall become a bad-tempered sitting-addict. With nothing between the cortex and the buttocks. Or rather with everything-- in a condition of complete unconsciousness and toxic stagnation. Western intellectuals are all sitting-addicts. That's why most of you are so repulsively unwholesome... Spongy seats for spongy bottoms-- at home, in the office, in cars and bars, in planes and trains and buses. No moving of legs, no struggles with distance and gravity-- just lifts and planes and cars, just foam rubber and an eternity of sitting..."
