Art Made By The People For The

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!

The Past Is Not Dead, It Is Living In Us, And Will Be Alive In The Future Which We Are Now Helping To Make.

As To The Garden, It Seems To Me Its Chief Fruit Is-blackbirds.

If You Cannot Learn To Love Real Art, At Least Learn To Hate Sham Art And Reject It.

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.