All gardening is landscape painting.

A garden should make you feel you've entered privileged space -- a place not just set apart but reverberant -- and it seems to me that, to achieve this, the gardener must put some kind of twist on the existing landscape, turn its prose into something nearer poetry.

I don't divide architecture, landscape and gardening; to me they are one.

The atmosphere beneath is languorous, and is so tinged with azure that what artists call the middle distance partakes also of that hue, while the horizon beyond is of the deepest ultramarine.

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.

Vain is the hope by colouring to display The bright effulgence of the noontide ray Or paint the full-orb'd ruler of the skies With pencils dipt in dull terrestrial dyes.