Growth Is Exciting; Growth Is

I Suppose The Pleasure Of Country Life Lies Really In The Eternally Renewed Evidences Of The Determination To Live.

I Like Owls. I Admire Their Intransigent Spirit. I Have Respected Them Deeply Ever Since I Met A Baby Owl In A Wood, When It Fell Over Dead, Apparently From Sheer Temper, Because I Dared To Approach It. It Defied Me First, And Then Died. I Have Never Forgotten The Horror And Shame I Experienced When That Soft Fluffy Thing (towards Which I Had Nothing But The Most Humanitarian Motives) Fell Dead From Rage At My Feet.

For The Last 40 Years Of My Life I Have Broken My Back, My Fingernails, And Sometimes My Heart, In The Practical Pursuit Of My Favourite Occupation.

There Is Always Something Else To Do. A Gardener Should Have Nine Times As Many Lives As A Cat.

Is It Better To Be Extremely Ambitious, Or Rather Modest? Probably The Latter Is Safer; But I Hate Safety, And Would Rather Fail Gloriously Than Dingily Succeed.