Travel Is The Most Private Of Pleasures.

I Loved You When Love Was Spring, And May, Loved You When Summer Deepened Into June, And Now When Autumn Yellows All The Leaves.

I Suppose The Pleasure Of Country Life Lies Really In The Eternally Renewed Evidences Of The Determination To Live.

My Garden All Is Overblown With Roses,/ My Spirit All Is Overblown With Rhyme.

Gardening Is A Luxury Occupation: An Ornament, Not A Necessity, Of Life.... Fortunate Gardener, Who May Preoccupy Himself Solely With Beauty In These Difficult And Ugly Days! He Is One Of The Few People Left In This Distressful World To Carry On The Tradition Of Elegance And Charm. A Useless Member Of Society, Considered In Terms Of Economics, He Must Not Be Denied His Rightful Place. He Deserves To Share It, However Humbly, With The Painter And Poet.

A Man And His Tools Make A Man And His Trade.