New words are always being born and old ones fading away.

This is the divine moment when we can hold the fairest blossom of spring in one hand and the sweetest flowers of early summer in the other.

In looking back we remember only the triumphant consummations of each season. Failures and frustrations are forgotten; garden-memories are as perfect as garden-hopes.

In a garden you can find, quiet thoughts that calm the mind.

Success and failure, triumph and disaster. That is the rhythm of life in the garden.

in February there is everything to hope for and nothing to regret.

much of gardening is a struggle against the fecundity of Nature.