What Is An Artist But A Workman

So With This Earthly Paradise It Is, If Ye Will Read Aright, And Pardon Me, Who Strive To Build A Shadowy Isle Of Bliss Midmost The Beating Of The Steely Sea.

All Rooms Ought To Look As If They Were Lived In, And To Have So To Say, A Friendly Welcome Ready For The Incomer.

Speak Not, Move Not, But Listen, The Sky Is Full Of Gold. No Ripple On The River, No Stir In Field Or Fold, All Gleams But Naught Doth Glisten, But The Far-off Unseen Sea. Forget Days Past, Heart Broken, Put All Memory By! No Grief On The Green Hillside, No Pity In The Sky, Joy That May Not Be Spoken Fills Mead And Flower And Tree.

What I Mean By Socialism Is A Condition Of Society In Which There Should Be Neither Rich Nor Poor, Neither Master Nor Master's Man, Neither Idle Nor Overworked, Neither Brain­slack Brain Workers, Nor Heart­sick Hand Workers, In A Word, In Which All Men Would Be Living In Equality Of Condition, And Would Manage Their Affairs Unwastefully, And With The Full Consciousness That Harm To One Would Mean Harm To All - The Realisation At Last Of The Meaning Of The Word 'commonwealth.'

The Greatest Foe To Art Is Luxury, Art Cannot Live In Its Atmosphere.