gardening is something more than a pastime; it is a religion.

Life is like a field, where we must gather what we grow, weed or wheat... this is the law, we reap the crop we sow.

It has been said that the only reason for leaving England is to give yourself the pleasure of coming back to it.

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

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.

If you want good roses, sharpen your knife and harden your heart.

....the ancient ritual of the earth; ploughing and planting, reaping and threshing. The fundamental business remains unaltered; it is only the methods and tools that science is changing.