There is nothing like the first hot days of spring when the gardener stops wondering if it's too soon to plant the dahlias and starts wondering if it's too late. Even the most beautiful weather will not allay the gardener's notion (well-founded actually) that he is somehow too late, too soon, or that he has too much stuff going on or not enough. For the garden is the stage on which the gardener exults and agonizes out every crest and chasm of the heart.

The mere fact that you get a lot of seeds in a packet doesn't mean you have to plant all of them.

Toads are conservative animals, I think, and not much given to expecting the best from fortune. Some weeks ago, well before the end of October, I accidentally dug up one while turning over some garden earth. I was surprised, naturally, when one of the clods heaved over on its die and there, in some annoyance, sat at toad.

Your garden will reveal yourself.

Nature does not hesitate to interfere with me. So I do not hesitate to tamper with it.

Compared to gardeners, I think it is generally agreed that others understand very little about anything of consequence.

A garden is not a picture, but a language.