I try to be known more for my work than for anything else.

I try to be known more for my work than for anything else.

And only the Master shall praise us, and only the Master shall
blame;
And no one shall work read more

And only the Master shall praise us, and only the Master shall
blame;
And no one shall work for money, and no one shall work for fame;
But each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate
star,
Shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They
Are!

I love working out. It's my release. I've done it since I've been in the military.

I love working out. It's my release. I've done it since I've been in the military.

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.

All Nature seems at work, slugs leave their lair--
The bees are stirring--birds are on the wing--
read more

All Nature seems at work, slugs leave their lair--
The bees are stirring--birds are on the wing--
And Winter, slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
And I the while, the sole unbusy thing,
Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.

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.

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.

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!

There are two kinds of people, those who do the work and those who take the credit. Try to be read more

There are two kinds of people, those who do the work and those who take the credit. Try to be in the first group; there is less competition there.