To be occasionally quoted is the only fame I care for.
How deeply seated in the human heart is the liking for gardens and gardening.
The man who in this world can keep the whiteness of his soul is not likely to lose it in any other.
In my garden, care stops at the gate and gazes at me wistfully through the bars.
Everything is sweetened by risk.
My garden, with its silence and pulses of fragrance that come and go on the airy undulations, affects me like sweet music. Care stops at the gates, and gazes at me wistfully through the bars.