Quotes About Gardens

Yes; all these brave houses and flowery gardens came from the Atlantic, Pacific and Indian oceans. One and all, they were harpooned and dragged up hither from the bottom of the sea. Can Herr Alexander perform a feat like that?

There were clouds closed fast round the moon. And one by one, gardens died.

Truths, yes. One after another, one boulder settling down, then another. And another. Blotting out the light, darkness closing in, grit and sand sifting down, a solid silence when the last one is in place. Now, dear fool, try drawing a single breath. A single breath. There were clouds closed fast round the moon. And one by one, gardens died.

Truths, yes. One after another, one boulder settling down, then another. And another. Blotting out the light, darkness closing in, grit and sand sifting down, a solid silence when the last one is in place. Now, dear fool, try drawing a breath. A single breath. There were clouds closed fast round the moon. And one by one, gardens died.

The Gardens seemed like a huge, dark forest that stretched into eternity, peopled by creatures who were strangers to the world outside, a timeless place of enchantment. The pathways were dark tunnels at the end of which anything might greet the unwary traveller.

I have always thought of urban gardens - most gardens - as islands, where we create our own kingdoms, acting out our need for land, nurture and nature. On this weekend all these tiny islands wake again, each one crammed with insects, birdsong (often far better in town than country) and slow-moving people emerging into this gift of extra light.

However naturalistic and 'wild' it appears, a garden is always an artificial environment made by people for people, so it makes sense to put the considerations of people – rather than plants – first.

The Bouwerie as the Dutch once called it, was a country road surrounded by grain fields, gardens and wildflowers. A retreat for well-heeled New Yorkers in the summer, the Bowery was far less populated in the winters.

For this, let gardens grow, where beelines end, sighing in roses, saffron blooms, buddleia; where bees pray on their knees, sing, praise in pear trees, plum trees; bees are the batteries of orchards, gardens, guard them.

bees are the batteries of orchards, gardens, guard them.

I grew up around the Luxembourg Gardens, so I guess that is my best memory.

Milan, for me, is a city of discovery. You can find some amazing gardens behind some great houses; I also love finding beautiful galleries and incredible shops, but you have to explore. And the food is amazing.

From where I sit and write at this moment, I look out the window, across the quiet guest-house garden, with the four banana trees and the big red and yellow flowers around Our Lady's statue. I can see the door where Dan entered and where I entered. Beyond the Porter's Lodge is a low green hill where there was wheat this summer. And out there, yonder, I can hear the racket of the diesel tractor: I don't know what they are ploughing.)

The three of us spend much of our week together at art museums and botanic gardens and other tourist attractions. We are drawn to these places of silent staring and confused, enervated wandering because they make us seem and feel less like freaks as we stare in speechless shock at one another.

Actually saying OMG out loud should only happen if you're being ironic or asking your phone for directions to the Oklahoma Meerkat Gardens.

Do you know the anecdote about Rubens? He was serving Holland as Ambassador to Spain and used to spend the afternoon in the royal gardens before his easel. One day a jaunty member of the Spanish Court passed and remarked, 'I see that the diplomat amuses himself sometimes with painting,' to which Rubens replied, 'No, the painter amuses himself sometimes with diplomacy!

After twenty annual visits, I am still surprised each time I return to see this giant asparagus bed of alabaster and rose and green skyscrapers.

I loved working with Renoir on 'The Southerner.' Oh, I loved it! I particularly loved when he had a scene with a cow going through a garden, and he wanted a little dog to come and bark at it and chase it out.

Most of the salt occurred in the sediments on the swamp bottoms. To make the water potable, the Maya laid a layer of crushed limestone atop the sediments, effectively paving over the salt. As the researchers noted, the work had to be done before the Maya could move in and set up their milpas and gardens.

Most other front gardens when planted with flowers looked both formal and artificial. Judith Haymaker, for instance, had put in daffodil and hyacinth bulbs so that they came up in rigid rows, a sight English women would have smiled at. While plentiful, Mrs Reed's flowers had a randomness about them that reminded Honor of coming upon primroses or anemones in the woods. They were just there, as if they always had been. It took real skill to remove the gardener's hand from the garden.

Sadness is but a wall between two gardens.

Banks of azaleas ranging from bright orange to palest pink rioted in the spring gardens.

At Highgarden we have many spiders amongst the flowers. So long as they keep to themselves we let them spin their little webs, but if they get underfoot we step on them.

Happiness grows at our firesides, and is not to be picked in strangers' gardens.