I do not want art for a few any more than education for a few, or freedom for a few.
Not on one strand are all life's jewels strung.
I pondered all these things, and how men fight and lose the battle, and the thing that they fought for comes about in spite of their defeat, and when it comes turns out not to be what they meant, and...
No man is good enough to be another's master.
OctoberO love, turn from the changing sea and gaze,Down these grey slopes, upon the year grown old,A-dying 'mid the autumn-scented hazeThat hangeth o'er the hollow in the wold,Where the wind-bitten an...
So long as the system of competition in the production and exchange of the means of life goes on, the degradation of the arts will go on; and if that system is to last for ever, then art is doomed, an...
Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.
It took me years to understand that words are often as important as experience, because words make experience last.
A man at work, making something which he feels will exist because he is working at it and wills it, is exercising the energies of his mind and soul as well as of his body. Memory and imagination help...
Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.
The past is not dead, it is living in us, and will be alive in the future which we are now helping to make.
History has remembered the kings and warriors, because they destroyed art has remembered the people, because they created.
If you cannot learn to love real art, at least learn to hate sham art and reject it.
I cannot suppose there is anybody here who would think it either a good life, or an amusing one, to sit with one's hands before one doing nothing - to live like a gentleman, as fools call it.
Whiles in the early Winter eve We pass amid the gathering night Some homestead that we had to leave Years past; and see its candles bright Shine in the room beside the door Where we were merry years a...
If others can see it as I have seen it, then it may be called a vision rather than a dream.
Now let us go, love, down the winding stair,With fingers intertwined...
O thrush your song is passing sweet But never a song that you have sung Is half so sweet as thrushes sang When my dear love and I were young.
If you cannot learn to love real art at least learn to hate sham art.