The wind is not helpless for any man's need, Nor falleth the rain but for thistle and weed.

That talk of inspiration is sheer nonsense; there is no such thing. It is a mere matter of craftsmanship.

The past is not dead, it is living in us, and will be alive in the future which we are now helping to make.

Another thing much too commonly seen, is an aberration of the human mind which otherwise I should have been ashamed to warn you of. It is technically called carpet-gardening. Need I explain it further? I had rather not, for when I think of it, even when I am quite alone, I blush with shame at the thought.

Large or small, [the garden] should be orderly and rich. It should be well fenced from the outside world. It should by no means imitate either the willfulness or the wildness of nature, but should look like a thing never to be seen except near the house. It should, in fact, look like part of the house.

Love is enough: though the world be a-waning, And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining.

I half wish that I had not been born with a sense of romance and beauty in this accursed age.