Nature, when undisturbed, is never monotonous, you know. Even when using green, the most frequent color on her palette, she throws in contrasting tints by way of expression, and you will seldom see two sides of a leaf of the same hue, and the leaf stem frequently gives a good dash of bronze or purple.

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

what is life worth if one has nothing to give away? This lack, it seems to me, must be the sharpest pang of poverty.

Surely there is no greater garden for human-nature study than the flotsam and jetsam of the hospital.

even as human vitality is at its lowest ebb in the early morning, so it is with plant life in the early spring.

Let everyone who makes garden plans frequently insert the letters C.P. in them as a reminder, the same standing for climate permitting.

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