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.

And the deeds that ye do upon this earth, it is for fellowship's sake that ye do them.

Apart from the desire to produce beautiful things, the leading passion of my life has been and is hatred of modern civilization.

Architecture would lead us to all the arts, as it did with earlier mean: but if we despise it and take no note of how we are housed, the other arts will have a hard time of it indeed.

We are only the trustees for those who come after us.

As to the garden, it seems to me its chief fruit is-blackbirds.

Don't think too much of style.