“Come into the garden, Maud,
For the black bat, night, has flown,
Come into the garden, Maud,
I am here at the gate alone;
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,
And the musk of the rose is blown.”

“A black cat among roses,
phlox, lilac-misted under a quarter moon,
the sweet smells of heliotrope and night-scented stock. The garden is very still.
It is dazed with moonlight,
contented with perfume…”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m actually on the wrong planet. It’s great when I’m in my garden, but the minute I go out the gate I think, ‘What the hell am I doing here?”

“Crimson clover I discover
By the garden gate,
And the bees about her hover,
But the robins wait.
Sing, robins, sing,
Sing a roundelay,—
'Tis the latest flower of Spring
Coming with the May!”

“Don't even step out of your garden gate until this matter has been clarified.”

“We have a way from this visible world to the Unseen,
For we are the companions of Religions Messenger.
We have a way from the house to the garden,
we are the neighbor of the cypress and jasmine.
Every day we come to the garden
and see a hundred blossoms.
In order to scatter them among the lovers,
we will our robes to overflowing. Behold our words!
They are the fragrance of those roses -
we are the rosebush of certainty's rose garden.”

“I'll never sing a love song for a love that isn't true. I love how the garden grows
And I love the garden rose.”

“I am writing in the garden. To write as one should of a garden one must write not outside it or merely somewhere near it, but in the garden.”

“Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls,
Come hither, the dances are done,
In gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls,
Queen lily and rose in one;
Shine out, little head, sunning over with curls,
To the flowers, and be their sun.”

“And mid-May’s eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.”