People Who Are Always Thinking

True Gardeners Cannot Bear A Glove Between The Sure Touch And The Tender Root.

A Garden Is Always A Series Of Losses Set Against A Few Triumphs, Like Life Itself.

Gardening Is A Madness, A Folly That Does Not Go Away With Age. Quite The Contrary.

We Saw The Strong Trees Struggle And Their Plumes Do Down, The Poplar Bend And Whip Back Till It Split To Fall, The Elm Tear Up At The Root And Topple Like A Crown, The Pine Crack At The Base - We Had To Watch Them All. The Ash, The Lovely Cedar. We Had To Watch Them Fall. They Went So Softly Under The Loud Flails Of Air, Before That Fury They Went Down Like Feathers, With All The Hundred Springs That Flowered In Their Hair, And All The Years, Endured In All The Weathers - To Fall As If They Were Nothing, As If They Were Feathers.

There Is A Proper Balance Between Not Asking Enough Of Oneself And Asking Or Expecting Too Much.