Quotes on Garden

As for rosemary, I let it run all over my garden walls, not only because my bees love it but because it is the herb sacred to remembrance and to friendship, whence a sprig of it hath a dumb language.

To cherish what remains of the Earth and to foster its renewal is our only legitimate hope of survival.

The care of the Earth is our most ancient and most worthy, and after all our most pleasing responsibility. To cherish what remains of it and to foster its renewal is our only hope.

As long as one has a garden, one has a future. As long as one has a future, one is alive.

Beauty surrounds us, but usually we need to be walking in a garden to know it.

There was an old, crazy dude who used to live a long time ago. His name was Lord Buckley. And he said, a long time ago, he said, 'People--they'r e kinda like flowers, and it's been a privilege walking in your garden.' My love goes with you.

Is there an intelligent man or woman now in the world who believes in the Garden of Eden story? If you find any man who believes it, strike his forehead and you will hear an echo. Something is for rent.

The art of stone in a Japanese garden is that of placement. Its ideal does not deviate from that of nature.

One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living.

My garden will never make me famous, I'm a horticultural ignoramus.

Just as a flower which seems beautiful and has color but no perfume, so are the fruitless words of the man who speaks them but does them not.

Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, night, has flown Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone: And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, And the musk of the rose is blown. For a breeze of morning moves, And the planet of Love is on high, Beginning to faint in the light that she loves On a bed of daffodil sky.

The very substance which last week was grazing in the field, waving in the milk pail, or growing in the garden, is now become part of the man.

Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you're there.

Working in the garden . . . gives me a profound feeling of inner peace. Nothing here is in a hurry. There is no rush toward accomplishment, no blowing of trumpets. Here is the great mystery of life and growth. Everything is changing, growing, aiming at something, but silently, unboastfully, taking its time.

Sometimes I feel like I’m actually on the wrong planet. It’s great when I’m in my garden, but the minute I go out the gate I think, ‘What the hell am I doing here?

Garden making, like gardening itself, concerns the relationship of the human being to his natural surroundings.

Do you, good people, believe that Adam and Eve were created in the Garden of Eden and that they were forbidden to eat from the tree of knowledge? I do. The church has always been afraid of that tree. It still is afraid of knowledge. Some of you say religion makes people happy. So does laughing gas. So does whiskey. I believe in the brain of man.

Its about cherishing the woodland at the bottom of your garden or the stream that runs through it. It affects every aspect of life.

The cyborg would not recognize the garden of Eden; it is not made of mud and cannot dream of returning to dust.

In the garden of gentle sanity, _x000D_ May you be bombarded by coconuts of wakefulness.