To poke a wood fire is more solid enjoyment than almost anything else in the world.

There was never a nation that became great until it came to the knowledge that it had nowhere in the world to go for help.

A garden is an awful responsibility. You never know what you may be aiding to grow in it.

Nothing shows one who his friends are like prosperity and ripe fruit.

Memory has the singular characteristic of recalling in a friend absent, as in a journey long past, only that which is agreeable.

Hoeing in the garden on a bright, soft May day, when you are not obligated to, is nearly equal to the delight of going trouting.

Snobbery, being an aspiring failing, is sometimes the prophecy of better things.