Dumb Dog. I Bought A

Wherever On This Planet Ideals Of Personal Freedom And Dignity Apply, There You Will Find The Cultural Inheritance Of England.

I Find That A Real Gardener Is Not A Man Who Cultivates Flowers; He Is A Man Who Cultivates The Soil. He Is A Creature Who Digs Himself Into The Earth And Leaves The Sight Of What Is On It To Us Gaping Good-for-nothings. He Lives Buried In The Ground. He Builds His Monument In A Heap Of Compost. If He Came Into The Garden Of Eden, He Would Sniff Excitedly And Say: "good Lord, What Humus!"

A Short Life Is Better For Mankind, For A Long Life Would Deprive Man Of His Optimism.

The Sole Perfection Which Modern Civilization Attains Is A Mechanical One; Machines Are Splendid And Flawless, But The Life Which Serves Them Or Is Served By Them, Is Neither Superb Nor Brilliant, Nor More Perfect Nor More Graceful; Nor Is The Work Of The Machines Perfect; Only They, The Machines, Are Like Gods.

Let No One Think That Real Gardening Is A Bucolic And Meditative Occupation. It Is An Insatiable Passion, Like Everything Else To Which A Man Gives His Heart.