Quotes About Garden

Silence and twilight fell over the garden. Far away the sea was lapping gently and monotonously on the bar. The wind of evening in the poplars sounded like some sad, weird old rune-some broken dream of old memories. A slender, shapely young aspen rose up before them against the fine maize and emerald and paling rose of the western sky, which brought out every leaf and twig in dark, tremulous, elfin loveliness.

Behind them in the garden the little stone house brooded among the shadows. It was lonely but not forsaken. It had not yet done with dreams and laughter and the joy of life; there were to be future summers for the little stone house; meanwhile, it could wait. And over the river in purple durance the echoes bided their time.

This afternoon I sat at my window and alternately wrote at my new serial and watched a couple of dear, amusing, youngish maple-trees at the foot of the garden. They whispered secrets to each other all the afternoon. They would bend together and talk earnestly for a few moments, then spring back and look at each other, throwing up their hands comically in horror and amazement over their mutual revelations. I wonder what new scandal is afoot in Treeland.

She felt vaguely upset and unsettled. She was suddenly tired of outworn dreams. And in the garden the petals of the last red rose were scattered by a sudden little wind. Summer was over --- it was Autumn.

It seemed like a garden where no frost could wither or rough wind blow--a garden remembering a hundred vanished summers.

Outside in the garden, which was full of mellow sunset light streaming through the dark old firs to the west of it, stood Anne and Diana, gazing bashfully at each other over a clump of gorgeous tiger lilies.

she drank in the beauty of the summer dusk, sweet-scented with flower breaths from the garden below and sibilant and rustling from the stir of poplars. The eastern sky above the firs was flushed faintly pink from the reflection of the west, and Anne was wondering dreamily if the spirit of color looked like that

Well, it is half an hour yet before prayer-meeting time, so I am going around to the kitchen garden to have a little evening hate with the weeds.

That good night in the garden was for all time.

And now, Mrs. Dr, dear, said Susan, since the fall house-cleaning is over and the garden truck is all safe in cellar, I am going to take a honeymoon to celebrate the peace. A honeymoon, Susan? Yes, Mrs. Dr. dear, a honeymoon, repeated Susan firmly. I shall never be able to get a husband but I am not going to be cheated out of everything and a honeymoon I intend to have.

And in my flower-beds, I think, Smile the carnation and the pink.

Let your Life be a garden of peace and your smile be a bloom of flowers.

Man (???) is meant to be God's garden, his ???????, and bring forth a unique fruit. The fruit of his labors is a life of unselfish devotion to the service of God.

Au jardin de mon père, les lilas sont fleuris. Tous les oiseaux du monde viennent y faire leur nid. Auprés de ma blonde, qu'il fait bon, fait bon, fait bon. Auprés de ma blonde, qu'il fait bon dormir.

Kali is the forest. She is wild. Gauri is the garden. She is domestic. Kali stays outside the house. Gauri comes inside the house. That is why what is outside is scary and what is inside is not.

She was gracious and yet fading, like an old statue in a garden, that symbolizes the weather through which it has endured, and is not so much the work of man as the work of wind and rain and the herd of the seasons, and though formed in men's image is a figure of doom.

She was gracious and yet fading, like an old statue in a garden, that symbolizes the weather through which it has endured, and is not so much the work of man as the work of wind and rain and the herd of the seasons, and though formed in man's image is a figure of doom.

Me costaba distinguir sus facciones. A nuestro alrededor, en el jardín, los árboles y el seto estaban grises, como modelados a partir de la pasta densa del crepúsculo.

On the porch, green-shuttered, cool, Asleep is Bertram, that bronze boy, Who, having wound her around a spool, Sends her spinning like a toy Out to the garden, all alone, To sit and weep on a bench of stone. Soon the purple dark will bruise Lily and bleeding-heart and rose, And the little Cupid lose Eyes and ears and chin and nose, And Jane lie down with others soon Naked to the naked moon.

I am poor, but I am rich. I have my children, I have a garden with roses, and I have my faith and the memories of those who have gone before me. What more is there?

The true object of all human life is play. Earth is a task garden; heaven is a playground.

I think people should maybe just go out into the garden and watch a ladybug crawl across a flower and relax their mind. That's about all you need to know about life, I think.

Sometimes I have loved the peacefulness of an ordinary Sunday. It is like standing in a newly planted garden after a warm rain. You can feel the silent and invisible life.

You have to appreciate every single day that you're alive. Life is a little bit like a garden - you have to find time to plant the seeds for beautiful flowers to grow.