One of the saddest things is that the only thing a man can do for eight hours a day, day after day, is work. You can't eat eight hours a day nor drink for eight hours a day nor make love for eight hours.

Day's work is still to do, Whatever the day's doom.

I and you-we are infinite, rich, large, contradictory, living, breathing miracles-free human beings, children of God and the everlasting universe. That's what we do.

Men for the sake of getting a living forget to live.

All work is empty save when there is love.

Most people work the greater part of their time for a mere living; and the little freedom which remains to them so troubles them that they use every means of getting rid of it.

Human happiness is the true odour of growth, the sweet exhalation of work.

Unless the concepts of work and play and reward for work change absolutely, women must continue to provide cheap labor, and even more, free labor exacted of right by an employer possessed of a contract for life, made out in his favor.

Serious occupation is labor that has reference to some want.

It is weariness to keep toiling at the same things so that one becomes ruled by them.