I never stop thinking about what I have to do. Let's put it that way. The only thing that takes me out of that is probably a film. I watch a lot of movies.
To the landscape architect a rock garden. . . appears. . . the work of a lunatic.
Snowdrops: Theirs is a fragile but hardy celebration. . . in the very teeth of winter.
In his garden every man may be his own artist without apology or explanation. Each within his green enclosure is a creator, and no two shall reach the same conclusion; nor shall we, any more than other creative workers, be ever wholly satisfied with our accomplishment. Ever a season ahead of us floats the vision of perfection and herein lies its perennial charm.
In one's garden a person may be one's own artist without apology or explanation. Here is one spot where each may experience the romance of possibility.
In his garden, every man may be his own artist without apology or explanation.
While working among the little plants of the far places of the world we forget the narrowness of our own orbit.
The best theology is probably no theology; just love one another.
In Light there is Dark, and in Dark there is Light.
This is our true tie," he whispered, his breath falling hotly onto my lips. "You're meant for me, and I will have you.
I propose to provide proof. . . that just as always an alcoholic ferment, the yeast of beer, is found where sugar is converted into alcohol and carbonic acid, so always a special ferment, a lactic yeast, is found where sugar is transformed into lactic acid. And, furthermore, when any plastic nitrogenated substance is able to transform sugar into that acid, the reason is that it is a suitable nutrient for the growth of the [lactic] ferment.