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Уильям Моррис

Дата рождения: 24. Март 1834
Дата смерти: 3. Октябрь 1896

Уильям Моррис — английский поэт, прозаик, художник, издатель, социалист. Крупнейший представитель второго поколения «прерафаэлитов», неофициальный лидер Движения искусств и ремёсел.

„Приезжая в Париж, я обедаю только в ресторане на Эйфелевой башне. Это единственное место, откуда не видно этого чудовищного сооружения.“

„If you want a golden rule that will fit everything, this is it: Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.“

„Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.“

„... I do not want art for a few; any more than education for a few; or freedom for a few...“

„History has remembered the kings and warriors, because they destroyed; art has remembered the people, because they created.“

„The true secret of happiness lies in the taking a genuine interest in all the details of daily life.“

„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.“

„Apart from the desire to produce beautiful things, the leading passion of my life has been and is hatred of modern civilization.“

„With the arrogance of youth, I determined to do no less than to transform the world with Beauty. If I have succeeded in some small way, if only in one small corner of the world, amongst the men and women I love, then I shall count myself blessed, and blessed, and blessed, and the work goes on.“ The Well At The World's End: Volume I


O love, turn from the changing sea and gaze,
Down these grey slopes, upon the year grown old,
A-dying 'mid the autumn-scented haze
That hangeth o'er the hollow in the wold,
Where the wind-bitten ancient elms infold
Grey church, long barn, orchard, and red-roofed stead,
Wrought in dead days for men a long while dead.

Come down, O love; may not our hands still meet,
Since still we live today, forgetting June,
Forgetting May, deeming October sweet? -
- Oh, hearken! hearken! through the afternoon
The grey tower sings a strange old tinkling tune!
Sweet, sweet, and sad, the toiling year's last breath,
To satiate of life, to strive with death.

And we too -will it not be soft and kind,
That rest from life, from patience, and from pain,
That rest from bliss we know not when we find,
That rest from love which ne'er the end can gain?
- Hark! how the tune swells, that erewhile did wane!
Look up, love! -Ah! cling close, and never move!
How can I have enough of life and love?“

„Nothing should be made by man's labour which is not worth making, or which must be made by labour degrading to the makers.“

„It is the childlike part of us that produces works of the imagination. When we were children time passed so slow with us that we seemed to have time for everything.“

„We are only the trustees for those who come after us.“ William Morris by Himself: Designs and Writings

„Have nothing in your house you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.“

„Now let us go, love, down the winding stair,
With fingers intertwined...“
The Defence of Guenevere and Other Poems

„If a chap can't compose an epic poem while he's weaving tapestry, he had better shut up, he'll never do any good at all.“

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