Patience Strong Quotes
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This is the divine moment when we can hold the fairest blossom of spring in one hand and the sweetest flowers of early summer in the other.
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in February there is everything to hope for and nothing to regret.
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gardening is something more than a pastime; it is a religion.
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It has been said that the only reason for leaving England is to give yourself the pleasure of coming back to it.
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I welcome the autumnal chill in the air. There is a stimulation about it. Life moves to a different rhythm. There is a sense of change in the atmosphere and change is good inasmuch as it prevents stagnation. We should grow weary of a summer that never ended.
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If you want good roses, sharpen your knife and harden your heart.
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Forget the times of trouble, but not the truths they taught. Forget the days of sorrow, but not the strength they brought. Forget the storms you battled through beneath a heavy load - but not the light that led you safely down the unknown road.
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In a garden you can find, quiet thoughts that calm the mind.
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I thought I had finished with romantic adventures, but half-way through life and well past the age for losing one's heart, I was suddenly swept off my feet by a new love, a passionate, tyrannical, all-absorbing emotion: the love of a garden.
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Winter sunshine is a fairy wand touching everything with a strange magic. It is like the smile of a friend in time of sorrow.
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Every noble achievement is a dream before it is a reality just as the oak is an acorn before it is a tree.
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Success and failure, triumph and disaster. That is the rhythm of life in the garden.
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Life is like a field, where we must gather what we grow, weed or wheat... this is the law, we reap the crop we sow.
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New words are always being born and old ones fading away.
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September is the month of maturity; the heaped basket and the garnered sheaf. It is the month of climax and completion. September! I never tire of turning it over and over in my mind. It has warmth, depth and colour. It glows like old amber.
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Few would dispute with the rose her claim to be the queen of flowers, for where is her equal to be found? Is she not God’s masterpiece?
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much of gardening is a struggle against the fecundity of Nature.
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The trees change their voices in autumn as well as their shapes. No longer do they whisper to one another in muffled tones as they did in summer; they talk in a different leaf-language now. The wind moves through the boughs like fingers drawn across the strings of a harp filling the air with the harsh dry sound of sapless leaves. It is the main theme of the autumn music, this murmuring counterpoint of dead leaves.
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Happy is the person who can keep a quiet heart, in the chaos and tumult of this modern world.
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While it is February one can taste the full joys of anticipation. Spring stands at the gate with her finger on the latch.
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....the ancient ritual of the earth; ploughing and planting, reaping and threshing. The fundamental business remains unaltered; it is only the methods and tools that science is changing.
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In looking back we remember only the triumphant consummations of each season. Failures and frustrations are forgotten; garden-memories are as perfect as garden-hopes.
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