The Saluki Is A Marvel Of Elegance.

Prose Is A Poor Thing, A Poor Inadequate Thing, Compared With Poetry Which Says So Much More In Shorter Time.

The More One Gardens, The More One Learns; And The More One Learns, The More One Realizes How Little One Knows.

Is It Better To Be Extremely Ambitious, Or Rather Modest? Probably The Latter Is Safer; But I Hate Safety, And Would Rather Fail Gloriously Than Dingily Succeed.

For Bees Are Captious Folk / And Quick To Turn Against The Lubber's Touch.

I Like Owls. I Admire Their Intransigent Spirit. I Have Respected Them Deeply Ever Since I Met A Baby Owl In A Wood, When It Fell Over Dead, Apparently From Sheer Temper, Because I Dared To Approach It. It Defied Me First, And Then Died. I Have Never Forgotten The Horror And Shame I Experienced When That Soft Fluffy Thing (towards Which I Had Nothing But The Most Humanitarian Motives) Fell Dead From Rage At My Feet.