E. Temple Thurston,
The garden of resurrection
(1911)
“ Nobody lives in a workshop. Why don't they go home, then, from cities? It is a sort of thing that Bellwattle would say, as when she asked why they could not cover up a field of corn to protect it from the rats. But I know what I mean. When once you have cast your bread upon the waters of a great city you never do go home. The workshop is your fate then as long as you live. Telephones, telegraphs, all throw out their clutching tentacles, dragging you back into the vortex whenever you try to escape. There is no escape. ”
