Gardens… should be like lovely, well-shaped girls: all curves, secret corners, unexpected deviations, seductive surprises and then still more curves.
Climate helps to shape the character of peoples, certainly no people more than the English. The uncertainty of their climate has helped to make the English, a long-suffering, phlegmatic, patient people rather insensitive to surprise, stoical against storms,. slightly incredulous at every appearance of the sun, touched by the lyrical gratitude of someone who expects nothing and suddenly receives more than he dreamed.
A garden should be in a constant state of fluid change, expansion, experiment, adventure; above all it should be an inquisitive, loving, but self-critical journey on the part of its owner.
The true gardener, like an artist, is never satisfied.
The garden that is finished is dead.
The basis of almost every argument or conclusion I can make is the axiom that the short story can be anything the author decides it shall be;…In that infinite flexibility, indeed lies the reason why the short story has never been adequately defined.
In America, every female under fifty calls herself a girl.