it is really astonishing how few colors are inharmonious when they are profusely massed and have green for a background.

what's the good of having news an' ye must coop it? It's like cold veal pie upon the chest for supper, the same being over old, under done, and dry o' gravy.

I have always noticed that when people consider others eccentric, it is because they are reveling in some form of enjoyment that their critics can neither compass nor share.

Mother love is invariably held sacred, as it should be, but why has father love never had its due?

It doesn't so much matter what one loves. To love is the transfiguring thing.

the various earth odors all have a separate tale to tell, and the leaf mold of the woods bears a wholly different fragrance from that of the soil under pasture turf, or the breath that the garden gives off in great sighs of relief when it is relaxed and refreshed by a summer shower.

Neither a garden nor a gardener can be made in one year, nor in one generation even.