I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal.

I do not like January very much. It is too stationary. Not enough happens. I like the evidences of life, and in January there are too few of them.

Every garden-maker should be an artist along his own lines. That is the only possible way to create a garden, irrespective of size or wealth.

I like muddling things up; and if a herb looks nice in a border, then why not grow it there? Why not grow anything anywhere so long as it looks right where it is? That is, surely, the art of gardening.

Among the many problems which beset the novelist, not the least weighty is the choice of the moment at which to begin his novel.

how poor and disheartening a thing is experience compared with hope!

Things were not tragic for us then, because although we cared passionately we didn't care deeply.