"A little knowledge is said to be a dangerous thing, but it is not dangerous to the imagination. Knowledge is to the imagination what fuel is to flame. A little feeds it; a great deal extinguishes it."

"[T]he Caesars of this world act sagaciously, perhaps, in making as much of their purple as possible. The world is largely governed by tailors and upholsterers."

"He was not far wrong who said that, for choice, he would be a beautiful woman from seventeen to thirty, a successful General from thirty to fifty, and a Cardinal for the rest of his days. But of course he was thinking of Cardinals as they were in the days of Leo X, Julius II, and Sextus V, not as they are today, extremely pious and rather pinched for means."

"[W]henever one wants to cite something wise and true, one has to go either to the ancients or to the eighteenth century for it."

"[I]n all periods of transitional thought and belief the conscience suffers, since its old sanctions have been removed and none other have yet taken their place. It is undermined without being adequately propped up."

"All imitation is exaggeration."

"Goodnight! Now dwindle wan and low The embers of the afterglow, And slowly over leaf and lawn Is twilight's dewy curtain drawn."

"[T]he charm of a half-neglected old garden arises from its having, once upon a time, not been neglected."

"It is always delightful to have one's feelings expressed by some one else in language of enthusiasm one might oneself be afraid to employ."

"Men preach Philosophy, women practise it."

"[P]eople who canalise their lives and prearrange their enjoyments lose much of the enchantment which attends the guiding beneficence of chance."

"To homes pervaded by charm, as to works of Art that approach perfection, the more happily constituted minds say 'Yes' without any qualification. The proper homage due to them is absolute assent."

"A writer cannot take his occupation too seriously. He cannot take himself too lightly."

"If you are not something of a philosopher,—and by philosophy I understand a serene temper, and the maintaining of an equable mind under the sharpest disappointments,—I do not advise you to cultivate, or at any rate to grow enamoured of, a garden."

"[A]mbition should be spoken of as not the last, but the first infirmity of noble minds, of which they gradually purge themselves as they grow more mature."

"[H]e who saves an ancient tree does better even than he who plants a new one."

"[E]xclusiveness in a garden is a mistake as great as it is in society."

"Whatever else he may do, a critic reveals and criticises himself."

"One must be intoxicated by scenery, in order to appreciate it. Tranquil survey is not enough, and scrutinising curiosity is fatal."

"A person of the right sort is one who has a solid grasp and realistic apprehension of people and things as they are, an irresistible inclination to transfigure them according to his imagination, and an inexhaustible supply of philosophic humour."

"[T]here is no gardening without humility, an assiduous willingness to learn, and a cheerful readiness to admit that you were mistaken. Nature is continually sending even its oldest scholars to the bottom of the class for some egregious blunder."

"Imagination should A reconciler, not a rebel, be, To teach the heart of man to apprehend Nature's vicissitudes, and bear his own, With sympathetic fancy."

"Once learn how Nature gardens for herself, and you will be able to spare yourself a good deal of trouble."

"Why should you, Because the world is foolish, not be wise?"

"There is no office in this needful world But dignifies the doer if done well."

"When the foal and broodmare hinny, And in every cut-down spinney Ladysmocks grow mauve and mauver, Then the winter days are over"

"No one can rightly call his garden his own unless he himself made it."

"'Tis a world Where all is bought, and nothing's worth the price."

"Of all our feigned affections, there is none So hollow, selfish, and injurious, As what we christen Patriotism."

"Towns can be trusted to corrupt themselves."

"So long as Faith with Freedom reigns And loyal Hope survives, And gracious Charity remains To leaven lowly lives; While there is one untrodden tract For Intellect or Will, And men are free to think and act, Life is worth living still."

"Is life worth living? Yes, so long As there is wrong to right, Wail of the weak against the strong, Or tyranny to fight;"

"He is dead already who doth not feel Life is worth living still."

"The Devil is an echo Of search unsatisfied."

"A garden that one makes oneself becomes associated with one's personal history and that of one's friends, interwoven with one's tastes, preferences, and character, and constitutes a sort of unwritten, but withal manifest autobiography. Show me your garden, provided it be your own, and I will tell you what you are like."

"Hospitality should be accidental, spontaneous, and impulsive, not pre-arranged and calculated."

"Omit death's certain sharpness, life would lack The salt that lends it savour."

"Let Will but set its appetite on war, And Reason will promptly invent offence, And furnish blood with arguments."

"Death is master of lord and clown. Close the coffin and hammer it down."

"O thou sophist, Man! Reason by reason proved unreasonable Continues reasoning still! Confronted close, What is this reason? Like the peacock's tail, Just useful for a flourish, nothing more; And when 'tis down, the world goes on the same."

"In vain would science scan and trace Firmly her aspect. All the while, There gleams upon her far-off face A vague unfathomable smile."

"Love and naughtiness are always in their teens."

"Public opinion is no more than this, What people think that other people think."

"Why from the plain truth should I shrink? In woods men feel; in towns they think. Yet, which is best? Thought, stumbling, plods Past fallen temples, vanished gods, Altars unincensed, fanes undecked, Eternal systems flown or wrecked; Through trackless centuries that grant To the poor trudge refreshment scant, Age after age, pants on to find A melting mirage of the mind. But feeling never wanders far, Content to fare with things that are."

"I love the doubt, the dark, the fear, That still surroundeth all things here. I love the mystery, nor seek to solve; Content to let the stars revolve, Nor ask to have their meaning clear. Enough for me, enough to feel; To let the mystic shadows steal Into a land whither I cannot follow. To see the stealthy sunlight leave Dewy dingle, dappled hollow; To watch, when falls the hour of eve, Quiet shadows on a quiet hill; To watch, to wonder, and be still."

"Doth Nature draw me, 'tis because, Unto my seeming, there doth lurk A lawlessness about her laws, More mood than purpose in her work."

"[…] faded smiles oft linger in the face, While grief's first flakes fall silent on the head!"

"Life seems like a haunted wood, where we tremble and crouch and cry."