"I sometimes think stone is too precious truly, Bronze far too permanent for human clods Whom men rush in to celebrate unduly: Immortal stuff is for immortal gods Carved by great artists. Let the celebration Of men be in such stuff as may be pulped; Reserve the rock for glorious inspiration: Venus to pose, to sculpt."

"Of all the poetry I've read I’ve never yet seen one (he said) That couldn’t be, far as it goes, Much better written out in prose. It’s what they eat, I often think; Or, yet more likely, what they drink. Aw, poets! All the tribe, by heck, Give me a swift pain in the neck."

"You might grow bored with being good; And, furthermore, I think you would."

"For many years it has been my habit to divide gardeners into three classes. These are professional gardeners, professional amateur gardeners, and amateur amateur gardeners."

""How would I hold a husband? Is it that you’re askin’ me? If it’s needful to hold, that is easily told— Be the scruff of his neck!" said she."

"But the snobs are ever with us, snobs of art, of place, of pelf. And, reading this, I rather think I might be one myself."

"They say the whole world’s down and out; But here’s what I can’t see: If every land, beyond all doubt, In all the earth is up the spout— Then who's the mortgagee?"

"To mock the tree-lined highways of our dreaming, Winding to pleasant plains and sunlit hills, Loud-speakers yet may blare 'mid billboards screaming To hymn the praise of someone’s priceless pills."

"But it must not be thought that I abjure all physical effort. Only the day before yesterday I pulled up a dandelion. Next week I shall probably be busy pulling up the two other dandelions that will inevitably spring up in that place to avenge their brother. Dandelions are like that."

"Oh, to be in England Now that Summer’s there! For who plays the Game in England Is each morning well aware That the cricket-pitch is water-logged, And the in-field’s wet and the out-field’s bogged: For it’s surely raining, anyhow, In England—now!"

": an ineffably pious person who mistakes this world for a penitentiary and himself for a warder."

"Now, a woman, she’s a woman. I ’ave fixed that for a cert. They’re jist as like as rows uv peas from ’at to ’em uv skirt. An’ then, they’re all so different, yeh find, before yeh’ve done, The more yeh know uv all uv ’em the less yeh know uv one."

"Professional gardeners are usually rather earthy uncommunicative men with a deliberate manner, a slight stoop and the dull-fish-like eye of the confirmed pessimist."

"Someone has said From the day we draw breath Until life be sped Two things are certain: Taxes and death. From the rise of the curtain, On life's dreary round, As hope wanes or waxes, Man ever found Two things are certain: Taxes and death— Especially taxes."

"It’s bad enough to be a bloke without one reel close friend; But when your dog gives you the bird it’s pretty near the end."

"Get a —— move on, Have some —— sense. Learn the —— art of Self de- —— -fence!"

"Women is strange. You take my tip; I’m wise. I know enough to know I'll never know The ’uman female mind ..."

"Of all the gems in this wide world (No matter what their hue be), The one I find most beautiful Is certainly the emerald."

"It is on record (in a booklet written by Guy Innes) that when Dennis decided to migrate from South Australia he telegraphed his father, "Send ten pounds. Going ", to which appeal the old man promptly replied, "Sending nothing. Go to hell!""

""Wot's in a name?" she sez. 'Struth, I dunno. Billo is just as good as Romeo."

"Willy! O 'ell! 'Ere wus a flamin' pill! A moniker that alwus makes me ill. "If it's the same to you, mum," I replies "I answer quicker to the name of Bill.""

"Sittin' at ev'nin' in this sunset-land, Wiv 'Er in all the World to 'old me 'and, A son, to bear me name when I am gone. ... Livin' an' lovin'—so life mooches on."

"We done poor Muvver proud when she went out— A slap-up send-orf, trimmed wiv tears an' crape."

""A boy!" she sez. "An' bofe is doin' well!" I drops into a chair, an' jist sez—"'Ell!" It was a pray'r. I feels bofe crook an' glad. ... An' that's the strength of bein' made a dad."

"Yeh live, yeh love, yeh learn; an' when yeh come To square the ledger in some thortful hour, The everlastin' answer to the sum Must allus be, "Where's sense in gittin' sour?""

"Farmer! That's me! Wiv this 'ere strong right 'and I've gripped the plough; and blistered jist a treat. Doreen an' me 'as gone upon the land. Yours truly fer the burden an' the 'eat!"

"Livin' an' lovin'; learnin' day be day; Pausin' a minute in the barmy strife To find that 'elpin' others on the way Is gold coined fer your profit—sich is life."

"Love is a gamble, an' there ain't no certs."

"Look fer yer profits in the 'earts o' friends, Fer 'atin' never paid no dividends."

"Livin' an' lovin'; learnin' to fergive The deeds an' words of some un'appy bloke Who's missed the bus—so 'ave I come to live, An' take the 'ole mad world as 'arf a joke."

"Welcome as waters unkissed by the summers Are the voices of bell-birds to thirsty far-comers."

"The silver-voiced bell-birds, the darlings of day-time, They sing in September their songs of the May-time."

"Songs interwoven of lights and of laughters Borrowed from bell-birds in far forest rafters."

"How many mariners had made that choice Paused on the brink of mystery! ‘Choose now!’ The winds roared, blowing home, blowing home, Over the Coral Sea. ‘Choose now!’ the trades Cried once to Tasman, throwing him for choice Their teeth or shoulders, and the Dutchman chose The wind’s way, turning north. ‘Choose, Bougainville!’ The wind cried once, and Bougainville had heard The voice of God, calling him prudently Out of the dead lee shore, and chose the north, The wind’s way. So, too, Cook made choice, Over the brink, into the devil’s mouth, With four months’ food, and sailors wild with dreams Of English beer, the smoking barns of home. So Cook made choice, so Cook sailed westabout, So men write poems in Australia."

"I love a sunburnt country, A land of sweeping plains, Of ragged mountain ranges, Of droughts and flooding rains. I love her far horizons, I love her jewel-sea, Her beauty and her terror— The wide brown land for me!"

"Sanu Sharma’s novel Pharak leaves a powerful impression with its elegant language and masterful use of aphoristic sentences.""

"The novel 'Pharak' by Sanu Sharma presents a unique perspective on dismantling traditional patriarchal structures, challenging societal norms, and advocating for women's identity and freedom."

"Sanu Sharma masterfully weaves dramatic developments and logical sequences, creating a storyline that keeps readers engaged by resolving initial uncertainties through a deepening understanding of characters."

"Through its balanced narrative, Pharak offers an insightful portrayal of characters struggling with their desires and actions, emphasizing that understanding one's true nature requires peeling away the layers of duality and hidden motives."

"Sanu Sharma is a significant voice in modern Nepali literature."

"Utsarga by Sanu Sharma is a timeless love story woven into a novel."

"Sanu Sharma's novel Utsarga takes the reader on a journey through an entirely new path."

"Sanu Sharma is a prominent contemporary Nepali novelist known for her unique storytelling style, making her a favorite among readers."

"Sanu Sharma has explored and unraveled the female psyche so deeply in her novel Utsarga that the reader becomes a witness to it."

"Free from the complexities of literary theories and experimentation, this novel Utsarga by Sanu Sharma is deeply emotional."

"Primary strength of Sanu Sharma's novel Utsarga lies in its seamless storytelling that never loses the reader’s engagement."

"Sanu Sharma's writing typically explore hidden human realities, subtle emotions, and the introspection of the human mind."

"The strength of Sanu Sharma's novel Biplavi lies in its courageous exploration of women’s struggles, not as isolated incidents, but as deeply embedded systemic issues that shape their existence."