Summer Makes A Silence After Spring.

The Farmer And The Gardener Are Both Busy, The Gardener Perhaps The More Excitable Of The Two, For He Is More Of The Amateur, Concerned With The Creation Of Beauty Rather Than With The Providing Of Food. Gardening Is A Luxury Occupation; An Ornament, Not A Necessity, Of Life.

Forget Not Bees In Winter, Though They Sleep.

The Saluki Is A Marvel Of Elegance.

There Is Something Intrinsically Wrong About Letters. For One Thing They Are Not Instantaneous. ... Nor Is This The Only Trouble About Letters. They Do Not Arrive Often Enough. A Letter Which Has Been Passionately Awaited Should Be Immediately Supplemented By Another One, To Counteract The Feeling Of Flatness That Comes Upon Us When The Agonizing Delights Of Anticipation Have Been Replaced By The Colder Flood Of Fulfilment.

Prose Is A Poor Thing, A Poor Inadequate Thing, Compared With Poetry Which Says So Much More In Shorter Time.