Nothing Is Stranger To Man Than His

I've Found A Place That Would Amaze You. People Used To Live There, But Now It's All Overgrown And No One Goes There. Absolutely No One - Only Me... Just A Little House And A Garden. And Two Dogs.

The Sole Perfection Which Modern Civilization Attains Is A Mechanical One; Machines Are Splendid And Flawless, But The Life Which Serves Them Or Is Served By Them, Is Neither Superb Nor Brilliant, Nor More Perfect Nor More Graceful; Nor Is The Work Of The Machines Perfect; Only They, The Machines, Are Like Gods.

Robots Of The World, You Are Ordered To Exterminate The Human Race. Do Not Spare The Men. Do Not Spare The Women. Preserve Only The Factories, Railroads, Machines, Mines, And Raw Materials. Destroy Everything Else. Then Return To Work. Work Must Not Cease.

I Find That A Real Gardener Is Not A Man Who Cultivates Flowers; He Is A Man Who Cultivates The Soil. He Is A Creature Who Digs Himself Into The Earth And Leaves The Sight Of What Is On It To Us Gaping Good-for-nothings. He Lives Buried In The Ground. He Builds His Monument In A Heap Of Compost. If He Came Into The Garden Of Eden, He Would Sniff Excitedly And Say: "good Lord, What Humus!"

Dumb Dog. I Bought A Dog Whistle. He Won't Use It.