The Reward Of Labour Is

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.

If We Feel The Least Degradation In Being Amorous, Or Merry Or Hungry, Or Sleepy, We Are So Far Bad Animals & Miserable Men.

Apart From The Desire To Produce Beautiful Things, The Leading Passion Of My Life Has Been And Is Hatred Of Modern Civilization.

Earth, Left Silent By The Wind Of Night,seems Shrunken 'neath The Gray Unmeasured Height.

So Long As The System Of Competition In The Production And Exchange Of The Means Of Life Goes On, The Degradation Of The Arts Will Go On; And If That System Is To Last For Ever, Then Art Is Doomed, And Will Surely Die; That Is To Say, Civilization Will Die.