Dearness Garden Quotes & Sayings

She might have been there for you in the aftermath, but I was there when everything came crashing down. — Megan Duke

I don't think of Superman as being angsty, though."
"That's the problem. Most people don't. But really he's pure angst. He has a Fortress of Solitude, you know? What do you think he does there, throw parties? No. He broods. — Ben Monopoli

Never give up the freeness of your soul. Live your duty to mankind, nurture creatures of this world as a true mother of the earth, but never shut your imagination off from those desires that distinguish you from the ordinary. Never allow yourself to be sapped of that extraordinary energy that is the necessary ingredient for creating something new and progressive. — Janvier Chouteu-Chando

The prayers of a lover are more imperious than the menaces of the whole world. — George Sand

Mobile isn't just another content-delivery mechanism. Don't try to be mobile first. Be user first. Context over content, that's the lesson of mobile. — Jeff Jarvis

We plowed through Chaucer, and I learned to assist her using the Middle English dictionary. One year we spent the winter painstakingly noting each instance of symbolism within Pilgrim's Progress on separate recipe cards, and I was delighted to see our pile grow to be thicker than the book itself. She set her hair in curlers while listening to records of Carl Sandburg's poems over and over, and instructed me on how to hear the words differently each time. After discovering Susan Sontag, she explained to me that even meaning itself is a constructed concept, and I learned how to nod and pretend to understand. My — Hope Jahren

All that counts is that a child says at the end of the book, 'Again! — Sebastian Walker

Do you love this world? Do you cherish your humble and silky life? Do you adore the green grass, with its terror beneath? Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden, and softly, and exclaiming of their dearness, fill your arms with the white and pink flowers, with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling, their eagerness to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are nothing, forever? — Mary Oliver