I suppose the pleasure of the country life lies really in the eternally renewed evidences of the determination to live. That is a truism when said, but anything but a truism when daily observed. Nothing shows up the difference between the thing said or read, so much as the daily experience of it.

Still, no gardener would be a gardener if he did not live in hope.

a letter, by its arrival, defrauds us of a whole secret region of our existence, the only region indeed in which the true pleasure of life may be tasted, the region of imagination, creative and protean, the clouds and beautiful shapes of whose heaven are destroyed by the wind of reality.

I suppose the pleasure of country life lies really in the eternally renewed evidences of the determination to live.

Of course I should love to throw a toothbrush into a bag, and just go, quite vaguely, without any plans or even a real destination. It is the Wanderlust.

There is always something else to do. A gardener should have nine times as many lives as a cat.

Nothing shows up the difference between the things said or read, so much as the daily experience of it.