He lacks much who has no aptitude for idleness.

To the landscape architect a rock garden... appears... the work of a lunatic.

In his garden, every man may be his own artist without apology or explanation.

Snowdrops: Theirs is a fragile but hardy celebration... in the very teeth of winter.

While working among the little plants of the far places of the world we forget the narrowness of our own orbit.

In his garden every man may be his own artist without apology or explanation. Here is one spot where each may experience the "romance of possibility".

The gardens of my youth were fragrant gardens and it is their sweetness rather than their patterns of their furnishings that I now most clearly recall.

A garden full of sweet odours is a garden full of charm, a most precious kind of charm not to be implanted by mere skill in horticulture or power of purse, and which is beyond explaining. It is born of sensitive and very personal preferences yet its appeal is almost universal.

In his garden every man may be his own artist without apology or explanation. Each within his green enclosure is a creator, and no two shall reach the same conclusion; nor shall we, any more than other creative workers, be ever wholly satisfied with our accomplishment. Ever a season ahead of us floats the vision of perfection and herein lies its perennial charm.

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