“Nature and letters seem to have a natural antipathy; bring them together and they tear each other to pieces.”
—Virginia Woolf, Orlando
“Blossom where you’re planted.”
—Saint Francis de Sales
I believe in the forest, and in the meadow, and in the night in which the corn grows.
Jack, do you never sleep
does the green still run deep in your heart?
Or will these changing times,
keep us apart?
Well, I don’t think so
I saw some grass growing through the pavements today.
Wade in the water
You’ll never get wet
If you keep on doing that rag.