Speak But One Word To

When Socialism Comes, It May Be In Such A Form That We Won't Like It.

...if Our Houses, Or Clothes, Our Household Furniture And Utensils Are Not Works Of Art, They Are Either Wretched Makeshifts, Or, What Is Worse, Degrading Shams Of Better Things.

So I Say, If You Cannot Learn To Love Real Art; At Least Learn To Hate Sham Art And Reject It. It Is Not Because The Wretched Thing Is So Ugly And Silly And Useless That I Ask You To Cast It From You; It Is Much More Because These Are But The Outward Symbols Of The Poison That Lies Within Them; Look Through Them And See All That Has Gone To Their Fashioning, And You Will See How Vain Labour, And Sorrow, And Disgrace Have Been Their Companions From The First-and All This For Trifles That No Man Really Needs!

And The Deeds That Ye Do Upon This Earth, It Is For Fellowship's Sake That Ye Do Them.

Simplicity Of Life, Even The Barest, Is Not A Misery, But The Very Foundation Of Refinement; A Sanded Floor And Whitewashed Walls And The Green Trees, And Flowery Meads, And Living Waters Outside; Or A Grimy Palace Amid The Same With A Regiment Of Housemaids Always Working To Smear The Dirt Together So That It May Be Unnoticed; Which, Think You, Is The Most Refined, The Most Fit For A Gentleman Of Those Two Dwellings?