Garden Quotes
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Anyway, my fellow Americans, this is an amazing moment for me. To think that a once-scrawny boy from Austria could grow up to become governor of the state of California and then stand here...then stand here in Madison Square Garden and speak on behalf of the president of the United States - that is an immigrant's dream. It is the American dream.
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My father read 'The New York Times,' my mother did secretarial work, we had a dog, we had a garden, I had a brother.
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The creative process is just a process and you can't really separate it from life. Growing your hair is a creative process. Your body is creating hair. Being alive is a creative process. Whether it's growing something in the garden or growing a song, the material accumulates. It's the process of being alive; it's the passage of time. Things change.
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There is no more wild, free, vigorous growth of the forest, but everything is in pots or rows like a rococo garden... The pupil is in the age of spontaneous variation which at no period of life is so great. He does not want a standardized, overpeptonized mental diet. It palls on his appetite.
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In the last couple of years I've been doing this sort of thing constantly, often repeating myself, becoming an avoidable Doomsday bore. But anything of importance - like a garden, a human relationship, a child, a religious faith, even the most convinced brand of atheism has to be worked on constantly if it is to survive.
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Sally In The Garden:Sally in the garden,Siftin' cinders,Lifted up her leg,And farted like a man,The bursting of her bloomers broke sixteen winders,The cheeks of her ass went (blam, blam, blam)
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Life is a garden forever in flower.
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My garden is a slow work, pursued with love and I do not deny that I am proud of it. Forty years ago, when I established myself here, there was nothing but a farmhouse and a poor orchard...I bought the house and little by little I enlarged and organized it...I dug, planted weeded, myself; in the evenings the children watered.
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He that hath eaten a bear-pie, will always smell of the garden.
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My first proper kitchen was this funny little club that we set up in Mercer Street in Covent Garden. It got shut down. Then I worked at a club in Notting Hill.
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The fairest garden in her looks,And in her mind the wisest books.
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I had never 'taken a cutting' before ... Do you realize that the whole thing is miraculous? It is exactly as though you were to cut off your wife's leg, stick it in the lawn, and be greeted on the following day by an entirely new woman, sprung from the leg, advancing across the lawn to meet you.
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I remember taking my stabilisers off my bike with my dad in the back garden. It was a small little bike, and it was called Poppy, had balloons on it, and was purple.
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No one can rightly call his garden his own unless he himself made it.
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While yesteryear I tarriedIn a garden in the south,I met a youth who carriedA rose-bud in his mouth.I gave him chase and caught him,And would not set him free,But held him and besought himTo give the flower to me.He smiled, and broke a petalAnd laid it in my hand-It seared like molten metal,And here is yet the brand.
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Locke sank into a swoon; The Garden died; God took the spinning-jenny Out of his side.
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What's the point of doing a brilliant Hedda Gabler in my back garden if no one will ever see it?
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Blended-reality technology could play in a limited, walled-garden world, but history suggests that it won't really take off until it offers broad freedom of use.
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To give everyone a house and garden is very difficult in urban areas.
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At each moment, a poem might grow into a totally different shape. It is not so much like working in a garden. It is more as if you remade the garden every day.
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It was like my part-time job as a kid to be an adventurer... in my head. I used to sword-fight in the garden and in the park - with my Nan, of all people, with my Nan who can barely walk! I used to make her run around, and I'd go around destroying these trees and cones and stuff.
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Exclusiveness in a garden is a mistake as great as it is in society.
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All you would hear every night on the news was that somebody had been shot dead in a certain part of Belfast. We lived opposite a judge, and there were always soldiers crouched down in our garden. We'd sit and talk to them, and I even used to sing to them!
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The first painting that I realised I liked was 'The Garden of Earthly Delights' by Hieronymus Bosch, when I was six years old, at the Prado in Madrid. I still find myself returning there every time I'm in the city.
