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The harder I work, the luckier I get.
The harder I work, the luckier I get.
Who first invented work, and bound the free
And holyday-rejoicing spirit down . . .
To that read more
Who first invented work, and bound the free
And holyday-rejoicing spirit down . . .
To that dry drudgery at the desk's dead wood? . . .
Sabbathless Satan!
The Lord had a job for me, but I had so much to do,
I said, "You get somebody read more
The Lord had a job for me, but I had so much to do,
I said, "You get somebody else--or wait till I get through."
I don't know how the Lord came out, but He seemed to get along:
But I felt kinda sneakin' like, 'cause I know'd I done Him wrong.
One day I needed the Lord--Needed Him myself--needed Him right
away,
And He never answered me at all, but I could hear Him say
Down in my accusin' heart, "Nigger, I'se got too much to do,
You get somebody else or wait till I get through."
No man is born into the world whose work
Is not born with him: there is always work,
read more
No man is born into the world whose work
Is not born with him: there is always work,
And tools to work withal, for those who will;
And blessed are the horny hand of toil!
Get leave to work
In this world,--'tis the best you get at all.
Get leave to work
In this world,--'tis the best you get at all.
By the way,
The works of women are symbolical.
We sew, sew, prick our fingers, dull out read more
By the way,
The works of women are symbolical.
We sew, sew, prick our fingers, dull out sight,
Producing what? A pair of slippers, sir,
To put on when you're weary--or a stool
To tumble over and vex you . . . curse that stool!
Or else at best, a cushion where you lean
And sleep, and dream of something we are not,
But would be for your sake. Alas, alas!
This hurts most, this . . . that, after all, we are paid
The worth of our work, perhaps.
There is joy in work. There is no happiness except in the realization that we have accomplished something.
There is joy in work. There is no happiness except in the realization that we have accomplished something.
Let no one till his death
Be called unhappy. Measure not the work
Until the day's out read more
Let no one till his death
Be called unhappy. Measure not the work
Until the day's out and the labour done.
Work divided is in that manner shortened.
[Lat., Divisum sic breve fiet opus.]
Work divided is in that manner shortened.
[Lat., Divisum sic breve fiet opus.]