And the secret garden bloomed and bloomed and every morning revealed new miracles.
Frances Hodgson BurnettRead
As long as one has a garden, one has a future. As long as one has a future, one is alive.
Interpretation
A garden represents hope and potential for the future, symbolizing life and vitality.
This quote suggests that having a garden is deeply intertwined with having aspirations and a sense of purpose. Gardens require care and cultivation, much like our dreams and futures; as long as we nurture them, we remain connected to life and possibility. When we invest in our gardens, we are essentially investing in our futures.
In practice
In a speech about community growth, one could say, 'As Frances Hodgson Burnett wisely noted, as long as one has a garden, one has a future.'
And the secret garden bloomed and bloomed and every morning revealed new miracles.
It's so different to be a sparrow. But nobody asked this rat if he wanted to be a rat when he was made. Nobody said, 'Wouldn't you rather be a sparrow?
As long as you have a garden you have a future and as long as you have a future you are alive.
If nature has made you for a giver, your hands are born open, and so is your heart; and though there may be times when your hands are empty, your heart is always full, and you can give things out of that--warm things, kind things, sweet things--help and comfort and laughter--and sometimes gay, kind laughter is the best help of all.
Somehow, something always happens just before things get to the very worst. It is as if Magic did it. If I could only just remember that always. The worse thing never quite comes.
At that moment a very good thing was happening to her. Four good things had happened to her, in fact, since she came to Misselthwaite Manor. She had felt as if she had understood a robin and that he had understood her; she had run in the wind until her blood had grown warm; she had been healthily hungry for the first time in her life; and she had found out what it was to be sorry for someone.
There are few things that have filled me with such breathless awe as flying in the black of night across oceans and continents and looking out my cockpit window upon the infinite glory of millions of stars.
The richest values of wilderness lie not in the days of Daniel Boone, nor even in the present, but rather in the future.
Earth and sea merged, the sea tossed itself in the air in a fantastic dance, into the shapes of men and horses and tattered banners. I stood in the lee of an overhanging rock and thought of many things.
I wish I could tell you about the South Pacific. The way it actually was. The endless ocean. The infinite specks of coral we called islands. Coconut palms nodding gracefully toward the ocean. Reefs upon which waves broke into spray, and inner lagoons, lovely beyond description. I wish I could tell you about the sweating jungle, the full moon rising behind the volcanoes, and the waiting. The waiting. The timeless, repetitive waiting.
It enclosed us in its laceries as we watched the moon spill across the Atlantic like wine from an overturned glass. With the light all around us, we felt secret in that moon-infused water like pearls forming in the soft tissues of oysters.
Flowers have spoken to me more than I can tell in written words. They are the hieroglyphics of angels, loved by all men for the beauty of their character, though few can decipher even fragments of their meaning.
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