I am not a greedy person except about flowers and plants, and then I become fanatically greedy.
One must think like a hero to behave like a merely decent human being.
The minute one utters a certainty, the opposite comes to mind.
Gardening is an instrument of grace.
It's extraordinary how little two people can understand each other and how cruel two people who are fond of each other can be to each other - there is practically no cruelty so awful because their power to hurt is so great.
Is it perhaps the one necessity of love, that it be needed? And the one great human tragedy that it so rarely is?