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Patience Strong

  • While it is February one can taste the full joys of anticipation. Spring stands at the gate with her finger on the latch.

  • ... in February there is everything to hope for and nothing to regret.

  • ... gardening is something more than a pastime; it is a religion.

  • ... much of gardening is a struggle against the fecundity of Nature.

  • If you want good roses, sharpen your knife and harden your heart.

  • It has been said that the only reason for leaving England is to give yourself the pleasure of coming back to it.

  • New words are always being born and old ones fading away.

  • September is the month of maturity; the heaped basket and the garnered sheaf. It is the month of climax and completion. September! I never tire of turning it over and over in my mind. It has warmth, depth and colour. It glows like old amber.

  • The trees change their voices in autumn as well as their shapes. No longer do they whisper to one another in muffled tones as they did in summer; they talk in a different leaf-language now. The wind moves through the boughs like fingers drawn across the strings of a harp filling the air with the harsh dry sound of sapless leaves. It is the main theme of the autumn music, this murmuring counterpoint of dead leaves.

  • Every noble achievement is a dream before it is a reality just as the oak is an acorn before it is a tree.

  • Winter sunshine is a fairy wand touching everything with a strange magic. It is like the smile of a friend in time of sorrow.

  • I thought I had finished with romantic adventures, but half-way through life and well past the age for losing one's heart, I was suddenly swept off my feet by a new love, a passionate, tyrannical, all-absorbing emotion: the love of a garden.

Patience Strong, English poet

(1907 - 1990)

Real name: Winifred Emma May.