Give me love and work - these two only.

Simplicity of life, even the barest, is not a misery, but the very foundation of refinement.

Art made by the people for the people, as a joy to the maker and the user.

Beauty, which is what is meant by art, using the word in its widest sense, is, I contend, no mere accident to human life, which people can take or leave as they choose, but a positive necessity of life.

The past is not dead, it is living in us, and will be alive in the future which we are now helping to make.

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.

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.