Quotes About Hertfordshire

A cheap envelope in an unformed handwriting, postmarked Hertfordshire.

I grew up in Hemel Hempstead, Hertfordshire, and reading was a big part of my life - I'd get through several books a week.

Six forest trees — that is a fact — grow out of one of the graves in Tewin churchyard. The grave's occupant — that is the legend — is an atheist, who declared that if God existed, six forest trees would grow out of her grave. These things in Hertfordshire; and farther afield lay the house of a hermit — Mrs. Wilcox had known him — who barred himself up, and wrote prophecies, and gave all he had to the poor.

I loved theatre and film when I was growing up in Harpenden, Hertfordshire. My mum's a reflexologist and my dad's a corporate financier.

I'm a member of the National Trust. I absolutely love architecture, history, geography, the arts and culture. Oh, and I love gardens. I moved from London to Hertfordshire, so I could get a garden.

My sisters and I cannot spend any substantial time searching for Wickham, as we are each commanded by His Majesty to defend Hertfordshire from all enemies until such time as we are dead, rendered lame, or married.

In real life, nothing would be more tedious than trailing around after two strangers as they went house-hunting in Hertfordshire. But for some reason, television is more compelling than real life.

Oh! if that is all, I have a very poor opinion of young men who live in Derbyshire; and their intimate friends who live in Hertfordshire are not much better. I am sick of them all. Thank Heaven! I am going tommorow where I shall find a man who has not one agreeable quality, who has neither manner nor sense to recommend him. Stupid men are the only ones worth knowing, after all.

This is going to sound so boring, but I play golf in Hertfordshire at a club called Sandy Lodge just by Moor Park Tube station. It's where I unwind and don't think about anything else.

A weak sun blinked at them as they crossed into Hertfordshire, and here and there a ragged blackthorn blossomed, waving at him a petition against the length of winter.

When I was little, I grew up in a place called Hertfordshire, which is just near London, but out in the country, and I visited Pakistan in the summers to go and see my family on my dad's side.

Caroline's beloved Brocket Hall has been transformed by a Hong Kong developer into a hotel and conference center. There are rumoured sightings of her ghost in the hotel, at which, of course, one scoffs. Yet, walking the road from the train stop in Welwyn to the Hertfordshire Records Office one gray January morning, I still find it hard to believe she is entirely gone.