William Morris Quotes

From Out The Throng And Stress Of Lies, From Out The Painful Noise Of Sighs, One Voice Of Comfort Seems To Rise: "it Is The Meaner Part That Dies."

It Is For Him That Is Lonely Or In Prison To Dream Of Fellowship, But For Him That Is Of A Fellowship To Do And Not To Dream.

Mastership Hath Many Shifts Whereby It Striveth To Keep Itself Alive In The World. And Now Hear A Marvel: Whereas Thou Sayest These Two Times That Out Of One Man Ye May Get But One Man's Work, In Days To Come One Man Shall Do The Work Of A Hundred Men - Yea, Of A Thousand Or More: And This Is The Shift Of Mastership That Shall Make Many Masters And Many Rich Men.

In Prison Wearily, Drearily, Half The Day Long, Flap The Great Banners High Over The Stone; Strangely And Eerily Sounds The Wind's Song, Bending The Banner-poles. While, All Alone, Watching The Loophole's Spark, Lie I, With Life All Dark, Feet Tethered, Hands Fettered Fast To The Stone, The Grim Walls, Square Lettered With Prisoned Men's Groan. Still Strain The Banner-poles Through The Wind's Song, Westward The Banner Rolls Over My Wrong.

By God! I Will Not Tell You More To-day, Judge Any Way You Will - What Matters It?

A World Made To Be Lost, - A Bitter Life 'twixt Pain And Nothing Tost.

The Wind Is Not Helpless For Any Man's Need, Nor Falleth The Rain But For Thistle And Weed.

Yea, I Have Looked, And Seen November There; The Changeless Seal Of Change It Seemed To Be, Fair Death Of Things That, Living Once, Were Fair; Bright Sign Of Loneliness Too Great For Me, Strange Image Of The Dread Eternity, In Whose Void Patience How Can These Have Part, These Outstretched Feverish Hands, This Restless Heart?

To Happy Folkall Heaviest Words No More Of Meaning Bearthan Far-off Bells Saddening The Summer Air.

There Is No Single Policy To Which One Can Point And Say - This Built The Morris Business. I Should Think I Must Have Made Not Less Than One Thousand Decisions In Each Of The Last Ten Years. The Success Of A Business Is The Result Of The Proportion Of Right Decisions By The Executive In Charge.

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 Agone But Now Must Never Enter More, As Still The Dark Road Drives Us On. E'en So The World Of Men May Turn At Even Of Some Hurried Day And See The Ancient Glimmer Burn Across The Waste That Hath No Way; Then With That Faint Light In Its Eyes A While I Bid It Linger Near And Nurse In Wavering Memories The Bitter-sweet Of Days That Were.

So I Say, If You Cannot Learn To Love Real Art; At Least Learn To Hate Sham Art And Reject It. It Is Not Because The Wretched Thing Is So Ugly And Silly And Useless That I Ask You To Cast It From You; It Is Much More Because These Are But The Outward Symbols Of The Poison That Lies Within Them; Look Through Them And See All That Has Gone To Their Fashioning, And You Will See How Vain Labour, And Sorrow, And Disgrace Have Been Their Companions From The First-and All This For Trifles That No Man Really Needs!