Flowers are happy things.
A weed is but an unloved flower.
Some men like to make a little garden out of life and walk down a path.
I don’t like formal gardens. I like wild nature. It’s just the wilderness instinct in me, I guess.
You have to get up and plant the seed and see if it grows, but you can’t just wait around, you have to water it and take care of it.
The most lasting and pure gladness comes to me from my gardens.
Fertilizer does no good in a heap, but a little spread around works miracles all over.
I know that if odour were visible, as colour is, I’d see the summer garden in rainbow clouds.
I enjoy painting, cutting the lawn and working in the garden when I have time. That’s therapy for me. I enjoy working with my hands.
No occupation is so delightful to me as the culture of the earth, and no culture comparable to that of the garden.
I loved to get all dusty and ride horses and plant potatoes and cotton.
Gardening is not a rational act.
When a finished work of 20th century sculpture is placed in an 18th century garden, it is absorbed by the ideal representation of the past, thus reinforcing political and social values that are no longer with us.
There is nothing I like better at the end of a hot summer’s day than taking a short walk around the garden. You can smell the heat coming up from the earth to meet the cooler night air.
Well I do find the beauty in animals. I find beauty everywhere. I find beauty in my garden.
The lesson I have thoroughly learnt, and wish to pass on to others, is to know the enduring happiness that the love of a garden gives.
The flower which is single need not envy the thorns that are numerous.
I read, go for walks and I love to garden. My hands are such a mess. People think I should have movie star hands, but they’re just gardening ones. Always slightly grubby and with a bit of dirt under the fingernails.
Sometimes, as is the case of peach and plum trees, which are often dwarfed, the plants are thrown into a flowering states, and then, as they flower freely year after year, they have little inclination to make vigorous growth.
Working with plants, trees, fences and walls, if they practice sincerely they will attain enlightenment.
One marked feature of the people, both high and low, is a love for flowers.
Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse too.
Weather means more when you have a garden. There’s nothing like listening to a shower and thinking how it is soaking in around your green beans.
If your knees aren’t green by the end of the day, you ought to seriously re-examine your life.
The garden, by design, is concerned with both the interior and the land beyond the garden.
