Gardens Quotes (page 15)
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It is moonlight. Alone in the silence. I ascend my stairs once more, While waves remote in pale blue starlight. Crash on a white sand shore. It is moonlight. The garden is silent. I stand in my room alone. Across my wall, from the far-off moon, A rain of fire is thrown. There are houses hanging above the stars, And stars hung under the sea, And a wind from the long blue vault of time. Waves my curtains for me. I wait in the dark once more, swung between space and space: Before the mirror I...
Conrad Aiken
I don't know. I only think the Austrians will not stop when they have won a victory. It is in defeat that we become Christian."The Austrians are Christians-- except for the Bosnians."I don't mean technically Christian. I mean like Our Lord."He said nothing."We are all gentler now because we are beaten. How would our Lord have been f Peter had rescued him in the Garden?
Ernest Hemingway
Beauty is not a need but an ecstasy. It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth, But rather a heart inflamed and a soul enchanted. It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear, But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears. It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a win attached to a claw, But rather a garden forever in bloom and a flock of angels forever in flight. Beauty is life when life...
Khalil Gibran
The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect, So hard to earn so easily burned. In the fullness of time, A garden to nurture and protect. It's a measure of a life. The treasure of a life is a measure of love and respect, The way you live, the gifts that you give. In the fullness of time, It's the only return that you expect
Neil Peart
The third week of June, and there it is again: the same almost embarrassing familiar breath of sweetness that comes every year about this time. I catch it on the warm evening air as I walk past the well-ordered gardens in my quiet street, and for a moment I am a child again and everything before me - all of the frightening, half-understood promises of life.
Michael Frayn
Here I am in the garden laughingan old woman with heavy breastsand a nicely mapped facehow did this happenwell that's who I wanted to beat last a womanin the old style sittingstout thighs apart undera big skirt grandchild slidingon off my lap a pleasantsummer perspirationthat's my old man across the yardhe's talking to the meter readerhe's telling him the world's sad storyhow electricity is oil or uraniumand so forth I tell my grandsonrun over to your grandpa ask himto sit beside me for a...
Grace Paley
Ever since, two summers ago, Joe Marino had begun to come into her bed, a preposterous fecundity had overtaken the staked plans, out in the side garden where the southwestern sun slanted in through the line of willows each long afternoon. The crooked little tomato branches, pulpy and pale as if made of cheap green paper, broke under the weight of so much fruit; there was something frantic in such fertility, a crying-out like that of children frantic to please. Of plants, tomatoes seemed the...
John Updike