Ther n' is no werkman whatever he be,
That may both werken wel and hastily.
This wol read more

Ther n' is no werkman whatever he be,
That may both werken wel and hastily.
This wol be done at leisure parfitly.

To build may have to be the slow and laborious task of years. To
destroy can be the thoughtless read more

To build may have to be the slow and laborious task of years. To
destroy can be the thoughtless act of a single day.

Your work is to discover your world and then with all your heart give yourself to it.

Your work is to discover your world and then with all your heart give yourself to it.

A man's work is nothing but this slow trek to rediscover, through the detours of art, those two or three read more

A man's work is nothing but this slow trek to rediscover, through the detours of art, those two or three great and simple images in whose presence his heart first opened.

I am nothing and to nothing tend,
On earth I nothing have and nothing claim,
Man's noblest read more

I am nothing and to nothing tend,
On earth I nothing have and nothing claim,
Man's noblest works must have one common end,
And nothing crown the tablet of his name.

I got all my work done to graduate in two months and then they were like, I'm sorry, you have read more

I got all my work done to graduate in two months and then they were like, I'm sorry, you have to take driver's ed. I just kind of went, Oh, forget it.

The day is short, the labor long, the workers are idle, and reward is great, and the Master is urgent.

The day is short, the labor long, the workers are idle, and reward is great, and the Master is urgent.

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.

Another lean unwashed artificer
Cuts off his tale and talks of Arthur's death.

Another lean unwashed artificer
Cuts off his tale and talks of Arthur's death.