Once, Zhuangzi was hanging out by the river when a few court officials turned up and offered him a ministerial job. 

You would think he would have laped at this promotion, but Zhuangzi refused. “There’s a temple in the state of Chu,” he said, “where there is the shell of a sacred tortoise that has been dead for 3,000 years. The shell is covered in silk and kept in a carved box. It is honoured withrituals by the king. But tell me … would that tortoise be better off in the temple or here by the river, dragging its tail in the mud?”

The officials agreed that the tortoise by the river was having a much better time of it. “Right then,” Zhuangzi said. “Get lost. Leave me to drag my tail in the mud.”