A work of art that contains theories is like an object on which the price tag has been left.

A work of art that contains theories is like an object on which the price tag has been left.

When Darby saw the setting sun
He swung his scythe, and home he run,
Sat down, drank read more

When Darby saw the setting sun
He swung his scythe, and home he run,
Sat down, drank off his quart and said,
"My work is done, I'll go to bed."
"My work is done!" retorted Joan,
"My work is done! Your constant tone,
But hapless woman ne'er can say
'My work is done' till judgment day."

Joy to the Toiler!--him that tills
The fields with Plenty crowned;
Him with the woodman's axe that read more

Joy to the Toiler!--him that tills
The fields with Plenty crowned;
Him with the woodman's axe that thrills
The wilderness profound.

The fruit derived from labor is the sweetest of pleasures.
[Fr., Le fruit du travail est le plus doux read more

The fruit derived from labor is the sweetest of pleasures.
[Fr., Le fruit du travail est le plus doux des plaisirs.]

Genuine Work alone, what thou workest faithfully, that is
eternal, as the Almighty Founder and World-Builder himself.

Genuine Work alone, what thou workest faithfully, that is
eternal, as the Almighty Founder and World-Builder himself.

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.

The harder you work, the harder it is to surrender.

The harder you work, the harder it is to surrender.

The brain is a wonderful organ; it starts working the moment you get up in the morning and does not read more

The brain is a wonderful organ; it starts working the moment you get up in the morning and does not stop until you get into the office.

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!