Back before William Faulkner was the William Faulkner, he was a clerk in the post office at the University of Mississippi, where, by all accounts, he was a terrible employee. When a postal inspector came to check up on him, he chafed, promptly resigning in this terse letter:
As long as I live under the capitalistic system, I expect to have my life influenced by the demands of moneyed people. But I will be damned if I propose to be at the beck and call of every itinerant scoundrel who has two cents to invest in a postage stamp.
This, sir, is my resignation.
He was the same age that I am now. I love this so much. (Via @openculture.)