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I have said as much as that the aim of art was to destroy the curse of labour by making work the pleasurable satisfaction of our impulse towards energy, and giving to that energy hope of producing something worth its exercise.
William Morris
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William Morris
Age: 62 †
Born: 1834
Born: March 24
Died: 1896
Died: October 3
Wilcumestowe
William M. Morris
Making
Impulse
Energy
Aim
Art
Destroy
Giving
Satisfaction
Work
Towards
Pleasurable
Much
Exercise
Producing
Something
Worth
Labour
Hope
Curse
More quotes by William Morris
If there is a reason for keeping the wall very quiet, choose a pattern that works all over without pronounced lines...Put very succinctly, architectural effect depends upon a nice balance of horizontal, vertical and oblique. No rules can say how much of each so nothing can really take the place of feeling and good judgement.
William Morris
O thrush, your song is passing sweet, But never a song that you have sung Is half so sweet as thrushes sang When my dear love and I were young.
William Morris
Yea, I have looked, and seen November there The changeless seal of change it seemed to be, Fair death of things that, living once, were fair Bright sign of loneliness too great for me, Strange image of the dread eternity, In whose void patience how can these have part, These outstretched feverish hands, this restless heart?
William Morris
A good way to rid one's self of a sense of discomfort is to do something. That uneasy, dissatisfied feeling is actual force vibrating out of order it may be turned to practical account by giving proper expression to its creative character.
William Morris
Another thing much too commonly seen, is an aberration of the human mind which otherwise I should have been ashamed to warn you of. It is technically called carpet-gardening. Need I explain it further? I had rather not, for when I think of it, even when I am quite alone, I blush with shame at the thought.
William Morris
Art made by the people for the people, as a joy to the maker and the user.
William Morris
Nothing should be made by man's labour which is not worth making, or which must be made by labour degrading to the makers.
William Morris
History has remembered the kings and warriors, because they destroyed art has remembered the people, because they created.
William Morris
What is an artist but a workman who is determined that, whatever else happens, his work shall be excellent?
William Morris
Architecture would lead us to all the arts, as it did with earlier mean: but if we despise it and take no note of how we are housed, the other arts will have a hard time of it indeed.
William Morris
Do not be afraid of large patterns, if properly designed they are more restful to the eye than small ones: on the whole, a pattern where the structure is large and the details much broken up is the most useful...very small rooms, as well as very large ones, look better ornamented with large patterns.
William Morris
A man at work, making something which he feels will exist because he is working at it and wills it, is exercising the energies of his mind and soul as well as of his body. Memory and imagination help him as he works.
William Morris
A world made to be lost, - A bitter life 'twixt pain and nothing tost.
William Morris
No man is good enough to be another's master.
William Morris
Death have we hated, knowing not what it meant Life we have loved, through green leaf and through sere, Though still the less we knew of its intent.
William Morris
No pattern should be without some sort of meaning.
William Morris
Beauty, which is what is meant by art, using the word in its widest sense, is, I contend, no mere accident to human life, which people can take or leave as they choose, but a positive necessity of life.
William Morris
Not on one strand are all life's jewels strung.
William Morris
To happy folkAll heaviest words no more of meaning bearThan far-off bells saddening the Summer air.
William Morris
So with this Earthly Paradise it is, If ye will read aright, and pardon me, Who strive to build a shadowy isle of bliss Midmost the beating of the steely sea.
William Morris