classes ::: garden, place, noun,
children :::
branches ::: the Garden

Instances, Classes, See Also, Object in Names
Definitions, . Quotes . - . Chapters .

object:the Garden
word class:noun

Jannah ::: In Islam, Jannah; lit. "paradise, garden", is the final abode of the righteous[1] and the Islamic believers, but also the Garden of Eden, where Adam and Hawa dwelt is called Jannah. Firdaus (Arabic: ) is the literal term meaning paradise which was borrowed from Persian , but the Quran generally uses the term Jannah symbolically referring to paradise. However "Firdaus" also designates the highest layer of heaven

How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God. ~ Matsuo Basho

  The supreme Shastra of the Integral Yoga is the eternal Veda secret in the heart of every thinking and living being. The lotus of the eternal knowledge and the eternal perfection is a bud closed and folded up within us. It opens swiftly or gradually, petal by petal, through successive realisations, once the mind of man begins to turn towards the Eternal, once his heart, no longer compressed and confined by attachment to finite appearances, becomes enamoured, in whatever degree, of the Infinite. All life, all thought, all energising of the faculties, all experiences passive or active, become thenceforward so many shocks which disintegrate the teguments of the soul and remove the obstacles to the inevitable efflorescence. He who chooses the Infinite has been chosen by the Infinite. He has received the divine touch without which there is no awakening, no opening of the spirit; but once it is received, attainment is sure, whether conquered swiftly in the course of one human life or pursued patiently through many stadia of the cycle of existence in the manifested universe.
  Nothing can be taught to the mind which is not already concealed as potential knowledge in the unfolding soul of the creature. So also all perfection of which the outer man is capable, is only a realising of the eternal perfection of the Spirit within him. We know the Divine and become the Divine, because we are That already in our secret nature. All teaching is a revealing, all becoming is an unfolding. Self-attainment is the secret; self-knowledge and an increasing consciousness are the means and the process.
  ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga, The Four Aids
  the Garden near the Temple and the Library

see also ::: The Garden of Forking Paths,
see also ::: the Temple, the Library, the Flower of light and knowledge, the lotus of the eternal knowledge and the eternal perfection

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the Garden
the Garden of Forking Paths
The Garden of Forking Paths 1
The Garden of Forking Paths 2
the Garden of Paradise
the Garden-Temple of Dreams
select ::: Being, God, injunctions, media, place, powers, subjects,
favorite ::: cwsa, everyday, grade, mcw, memcards (table), project, project 0001, Savitri, the Temple of Sages, three js, whiteboard,
temp ::: consecration, experiments, knowledge, meditation, psychometrics, remember, responsibility, temp, the Bad, the God object, the Good, the most important, the Ring, the source of inspirations, the Stack, the Tarot, the Word, top priority, whiteboard,

--- DICTIONARIES (in Dictionaries, in Quotes, in Chapters)

the Garden of Gethsemane, with the assurance of

--- QUOTES [25 / 25 - 500 / 2512] (in Dictionaries, in Quotes, in Chapters)

KEYS (10k)

   10 Jorge Luis Borges
   2 Lewis Carroll
   1 Voltaire
   1 Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche
   1 Sri Aurobindo
   1 Minnie Aumonier
   1 Mehmet Murat ildan
   1 Koran
   1 Kahlil Gibran
   1 H P Lovecraft
   1 Georg C Lichtenberg
   1 Ernest Hemingway
   1 Carl Jung
   1 Boye De Mente
   1 Anonymous


   16 Rumi
   14 Anonymous
   5 Thich Nhat Hanh
   5 Mehmet Murat ildan
   5 Dot Hutchison
   4 Michael Pollan
   4 Joseph Campbell
   4 Jalaluddin Rumi
   4 Amit Ray
   3 Tan Twan Eng
   3 Robert Frost
   3 Percy Bysshe Shelley
   3 Paulo Coelho
   3 Lewis Carroll
   3 Khang Kijarro Nguyen
   3 James Baldwin
   3 Jamaica Kincaid
   3 F Scott Fitzgerald
   3 Frances Hodgson Burnett
   2 William Blake
   2 Voltaire
   2 Tomi Adeyemi
   2 Thomas Jefferson
   2 Steven Erikson
   2 Stephen Gardiner
   2 Shirley Jackson
   2 Sarah Young
   2 Rupi Kaur
   2 Rudyard Kipling
   2 Richard Dawkins
   2 Ray Bradbury
   2 Pope Francis
   2 Paul David Tripp
   2 Oscar Wilde
   2 Nathaniel Hawthorne
   2 Mitch Albom
   2 Max Lucado
   2 Mark Twain
   2 Mark Haddon
   2 Leigh Bardugo
   2 John Piper
   2 J K Rowling
   2 Jim Rohn
   2 Jean Houston
   2 James Salter
   2 Henry James
   2 Gregory Maguire
   2 Francis Bacon
   2 Diane Setterfield
   2 Chuck Palahniuk
   2 Charles Haddon Spurgeon
   2 Cao Xueqin
   2 Bryant McGill
   2 Anna Akhmatova
   2 Angie Thomas

1:I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. ~ Anonymous, The Bible John 15:1,
2:Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know. ~ Ernest Hemingway, The Garden of Eden ,
3:When the world wearies, and society ceases to satisfy, there is always the Garden. ~ Minnie Aumonier,
4:In a riddle whose answer is chess, what is the only prohibited word? ~ Jorge Luis Borges, The Garden Of Forking Paths ,
5:In the garden of literature, the highest and the most charismatic flowers are always the quotations. ~ Mehmet Murat ildan,
6:Lost in these imaginary illusions I forgot my destiny - that of the hunted. ~ Jorge Luis Borges, The Garden Of Forking Paths ,
7:Or do ye think that ye shall enter the Garden of Bliss without such trials as came to those who passed away before you? ~ Koran, 214.php">.php">214 ,
8:It seemed incredible that this day, a day without warnings or omens, might be that of my implacable death. ~ Jorge Luis Borges, The Garden Of Forking Paths ,
9:We must cultivate our own garden. When man was put in the garden of Eden he was put there so that he should work, which proves that man was not born to rest. ~ Voltaire,
10:As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light of meaning in the darkness of mere being. ~ Carl Jung, Memories the Garden-Temple of Dreams,
11:I thought of a labyrinth of labyrinths, of one sinuous spreading labyrinth that would encompass the past and the future and in some way involve the stars. ~ Jorge Luis Borges, The Garden Of Forking Paths ,
12:Thy soul is a brief flower by the gardener MindCreated in thy matter’s terrain plot;It perishes with the plant on which it grows. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Gospel of Death and Vanity of the Ideal
13:Do not judge God's world from your own. Trim your own hedge as you wish and plant your flowers in the patterns you can understand, but do not judge the garden of nature from your little window box. ~ Georg C Lichtenberg,
14:I kept asking myself how a book could be infinite. I could not imagine any other than a cyclic volume, circular. A volume whose last page would be the same as the first and so have the possibility of continuing indefinitely. ~ Jorge Luis Borges, The Garden Of Forking Paths ,
15:Ts'ui Pe must have said once: I am withdrawing to write a book. And another time: I am withdrawing to construct a labyrinth. Every one imagined two works; to no one did it occur that the book and the maze were one and the same thing." ~ Jorge Luis Borges, The Garden Of Forking Paths ,
16:This web of time - the strands of which approach one another, bifurcate, intersect or ignore each other through the centuries - embraces every possibility. We do not exist in most of them. In some you exist and not I, while in others I do, and you do not. ~ Jorge Luis Borges, The Garden Of Forking Paths ,
17:Writing long books is a laborious and impoverishing act of foolishness: expanding in five hundred pages an idea that could be perfectly explained in a few minutes. A better procedure is to pretend that those books already exist and to offer a summary, a commentary. ~ Jorge Luis Borges, The Garden Of Forking Paths? ,
18:In all fiction, when a man is faced with alternatives he chooses one at the expense of the others. In the almost unfathomable Ts'ui Pen, he chooses - simultaneously - all of them. He thus creates various futures, various times which start others that will in their turn branch out and bifurcate in other times. That is the cause of the contradictions in the novel." ~ Jorge Luis Borges, The Garden Of Forking Paths ,
19:In Japanese language, kata (though written as 方) is a frequently-used suffix meaning way of doing, with emphasis on the form and order of the process. Other meanings are training method and formal exercise. The goal of a painter's practicing, for example, is to merge his consciousness with his brush; the potter's with his clay; the garden designer's with the materials of the garden. Once such mastery is achieved, the theory goes, the doing of a thing perfectly is as easy as thinking it ~ Boye De Mente, Japan's Secret Weapon - The Kata Factor ,
20:If a man finds himself haunted by evil desires and unholy images, which will generally be at periodical hours, let him commit to memory passages of Scripture, or passages from the best writers in verse or prose. Let him store his mind with these, as safeguards to repeat when he lies awake in some restless night, or when despairing imaginations, or gloomy, suicidal thoughts, beset him. Let these be to him the sword, turning everywhere to keep the way of the Garden of Life from the intrusion of profaner footsteps. ~ Lewis Carroll, Sylvie and Bruno ,
21:And as I ran along the shore, crushing sleeping flowers with heedless feet and maddened ever by the fear of unknown things and the lure of the dead faces, I saw that the garden had no end under that moon; for where by day the walls were, there stretched now only new vistas of trees and paths, flowers and shrubs, stone idols and pagodas, and bendings of the yellow-litten stream past grassy banks and under grotesque bridges of marble. And the lips of the dead lotos-faces whispered sadly, and bade me follow, nor did I cease my steps till the stream became a river, and joined amidst marshes of swaying reeds and beaches of gleaming sand the shore of a vast and nameless sea. Upon ~ H P Lovecraft,
22:The PalaceThe Palace is not infinite.The walls, the ramparts, the gardens, the labyrinths, the staircases, the terraces, the parapets, the doors, the galleries, the circular or rectangular patios, the cloisters, the intersections, the cisterns, the anterooms, the chambers, the alcoves, the libraries, the attics, the dungeons, the sealed cells and the vaults, are not less in quantity than the grains of sand in the Ganges, but their number has a limit. From the roofs, towards sunset, many people can make out the forges, the workshops, the stables, the boatyards and the huts of the slaves.It is granted to no one to traverse more than an infinitesimal part of the palace. Some know only the cellars. We can take in some faces, some voices, some words, but what we perceive is of the feeblest. Feeble and precious at the same time. The date which the chisel engraves in the tablet, and which is recorded in the parochial registers, is later than our own death; we are already dead when nothing touches us, neither a word nor a yearning nor a memory. I know that I am not dead. ~ Jorge Luis Borges, The Book of Sand ,
23:When love beckons to you follow him, Though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him, Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth...... But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.>p>Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love. And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course. Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself. But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully. ~ Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet ,
24:PROTECTION Going to sleep is a little like dying, a journey taken alone into the unknown. Ordinarily we are not troubled about sleep because we are familiar with it, but think about what it entails. We completely lose ourselves in a void for some period of time, until we arise again in a dream. When we do so, we may have a different identity and a different body. We may be in a strange place, with people we do not know, involved in baffling activities that may seem quite risky. Just trying to sleep in an unfamiliar place may occasion anxiety. The place may be perfectly secure and comfortable, but we do not sleep as well as we do at home in familiar surroundings. Maybe the energy of the place feels wrong. Or maybe it is only our own insecurity that disturbs us,and even in familiar places we may feel anxious while waiting for sleep to come, or be frightenedby what we dream. When we fall asleep with anxiety, our dreams are mingled with fear and tension, sleep is less restful, and the practice harder to do. So it is a good idea to create a sense of protection before we sleep and to turn our sleeping area into a sacred space. This is done by imagining protective dakinis all around the sleeping area. Visualize the dakinis as beautiful goddesses, enlightened female beings who are loving, green in color, and powerfully protective. They remain near as you fall asleep and throughout the night, like mothers watching over their child, or guardians surrounding a king or queen. Imagine them everywhere, guarding the doors and the windows, sitting next to you on the bed, walking in the garden or the yard, and so on, until you feel completely protected. Again, this practice is more than just trying to visualize something: see the dakinis with your mind but also use your imagination to feel their presence. Creating a protective, sacred environment in this way is calming and relaxing and promotes restful sleep. This is how the mystic lives: seeing the magic, changing the environment with the mind, and allowing actions, even actions of the imagination, to have significance. You can enhance the sense of peace in your sleeping environment by keeping objects of a sacred nature in the bedroom: peaceful, loving images, sacred and religious symbols, and other objects that direct your mind toward the path. The Mother Tantra tells us that as we prepare for sleep we should maintain awareness of the causes of dream, the object to focus upon, the protectors, and of ourselves. Hold these together inawareness, not as many things, but as a single environment, and this will have a great effect in dream and sleep. ~ Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche, The Tibetan Yogas Of Dream And Sleep ,
25:One little picture in this book, the Magic Locket, was drawn by 'Miss Alice Havers.' I did not state this on the title-page, since it seemed only due, to the artist of all these (to my mind) wonderful pictures, that his name should stand there alone.The descriptions, of Sunday as spent by children of the last generation, are quoted verbatim from a speech made to me by a child-friend and a letter written to me by a lady-friend.The Chapters, headed 'Fairy Sylvie' and 'Bruno's Revenge,' are a reprint, with a few alterations, of a little fairy-tale which I wrote in the year 1867, at the request of the late Mrs. Gatty, for 'Aunt Judy's Magazine,' which she was then editing.It was in 1874, I believe, that the idea first occurred to me of making it the nucleus of a longer story.As the years went on, I jotted down, at odd moments, all sorts of odd ideas, and fragments of dialogue, that occurred to me--who knows how?--with a transitory suddenness that left me no choice but either to record them then and there, or to abandon them to oblivion. Sometimes one could trace to their source these random flashes of thought--as being suggested by the book one was reading, or struck out from the 'flint' of one's own mind by the 'steel' of a friend's chance remark but they had also a way of their own, of occurring, a propos of nothing --specimens of that hopelessly illogical phenomenon, 'an effect without a cause.' Such, for example, was the last line of 'The Hunting of the Snark,' which came into my head (as I have already related in 'The Theatre' for April, 1887) quite suddenly, during a solitary walk: and such, again, have been passages which occurred in dreams, and which I cannot trace to any antecedent cause whatever. There are at least two instances of such dream-suggestions in this book--one, my Lady's remark, 'it often runs in families, just as a love for pastry does', the other, Eric Lindon's badinage about having been in domestic service.And thus it came to pass that I found myself at last in possession of a huge unwieldy mass of litterature--if the reader will kindly excuse the spelling --which only needed stringing together, upon the thread of a consecutive story, to constitute the book I hoped to write. Only! The task, at first, seemed absolutely hopeless, and gave me a far clearer idea, than I ever had before, of the meaning of the word 'chaos': and I think it must have been ten years, or more, before I had succeeded in classifying these odds-and-ends sufficiently to see what sort of a story they indicated: for the story had to grow out of the incidents, not the incidents out of the story I am telling all this, in no spirit of egoism, but because I really believe that some of my readers will be interested in these details of the 'genesis' of a book, which looks so simple and straight-forward a matter, when completed, that they might suppose it to have been written straight off, page by page, as one would write a letter, beginning at the beginning; and ending at the end.It is, no doubt, possible to write a story in that way: and, if it be not vanity to say so, I believe that I could, myself,--if I were in the unfortunate position (for I do hold it to be a real misfortune) of being obliged to produce a given amount of fiction in a given time,--that I could 'fulfil my task,' and produce my 'tale of bricks,' as other slaves have done. One thing, at any rate, I could guarantee as to the story so produced--that it should be utterly commonplace, should contain no new ideas whatever, and should be very very weary reading!This species of literature has received the very appropriate name of 'padding' which might fitly be defined as 'that which all can write and none can read.' That the present volume contains no such writing I dare not avow: sometimes, in order to bring a picture into its proper place, it has been necessary to eke out a page with two or three extra lines : but I can honestly say I have put in no more than I was absolutely compelled to do.My readers may perhaps like to amuse themselves by trying to detect, in a given passage, the one piece of 'padding' it contains. While arranging the 'slips' into pages, I found that the passage was 3 lines too short. I supplied the deficiency, not by interpolating a word here and a word there, but by writing in 3 consecutive lines. Now can my readers guess which they are?A harder puzzle if a harder be desired would be to determine, as to the Gardener's Song, in which cases (if any) the stanza was adapted to the surrounding text, and in which (if any) the text was adapted to the stanza.Perhaps the hardest thing in all literature--at least I have found it so: by no voluntary effort can I accomplish it: I have to take it as it come's is to write anything original. And perhaps the easiest is, when once an original line has been struck out, to follow it up, and to write any amount more to the same tune. I do not know if 'Alice in Wonderland' was an original story--I was, at least, no conscious imitator in writing it--but I do know that, since it came out, something like a dozen storybooks have appeared, on identically the same pattern. The path I timidly explored believing myself to be 'the first that ever burst into that silent sea'--is now a beaten high-road: all the way-side flowers have long ago been trampled into the dust: and it would be courting disaster for me to attempt that style again.Hence it is that, in 'Sylvie and Bruno,' I have striven with I know not what success to strike out yet another new path: be it bad or good, it is the best I can do. It is written, not for money, and not for fame, but in the hope of supplying, for the children whom I love, some thoughts that may suit those hours of innocent merriment which are the very life of Childhood; and also in the hope of suggesting, to them and to others, some thoughts that may prove, I would fain hope, not wholly out of harmony with the graver cadences of Life.If I have not already exhausted the patience of my readers, I would like to seize this opportunity perhaps the last I shall have of addressing so many friends at once of putting on record some ideas that have occurred to me, as to books desirable to be written--which I should much like to attempt, but may not ever have the time or power to carry through--in the hope that, if I should fail (and the years are gliding away very fast) to finish the task I have set myself, other hands may take it up.First, a Child's Bible. The only real essentials of this would be, carefully selected passages, suitable for a child's reading, and pictures. One principle of selection, which I would adopt, would be that Religion should be put before a child as a revelation of love--no need to pain and puzzle the young mind with the history of crime and punishment. (On such a principle I should, for example, omit the history of the Flood.) The supplying of the pictures would involve no great difficulty: no new ones would be needed : hundreds of excellent pictures already exist, the copyright of which has long ago expired, and which simply need photo-zincography, or some similar process, for their successful reproduction. The book should be handy in size with a pretty attractive looking cover--in a clear legible type--and, above all, with abundance of pictures, pictures, pictures!Secondly, a book of pieces selected from the Bible--not single texts, but passages of from 10 to 20 verses each--to be committed to memory. Such passages would be found useful, to repeat to one's self and to ponder over, on many occasions when reading is difficult, if not impossible: for instance, when lying awake at night--on a railway-journey --when taking a solitary walk-in old age, when eyesight is failing or wholly lost--and, best of all, when illness, while incapacitating us for reading or any other occupation, condemns us to lie awake through many weary silent hours: at such a time how keenly one may realise the truth of David's rapturous cry "O how sweet are thy words unto my throat: yea, sweeter than honey unto my mouth!"I have said 'passages,' rather than single texts, because we have no means of recalling single texts: memory needs links, and here are none: one may have a hundred texts stored in the memory, and not be able to recall, at will, more than half-a-dozen--and those by mere chance: whereas, once get hold of any portion of a chapter that has been committed to memory, and the whole can be recovered: all hangs together.Thirdly, a collection of passages, both prose and verse, from books other than the Bible. There is not perhaps much, in what is called 'un-inspired' literature (a misnomer, I hold: if Shakespeare was not inspired, one may well doubt if any man ever was), that will bear the process of being pondered over, a hundred times: still there are such passages--enough, I think, to make a goodly store for the memory.These two books of sacred, and secular, passages for memory--will serve other good purposes besides merely occupying vacant hours: they will help to keep at bay many anxious thoughts, worrying thoughts, uncharitable thoughts, unholy thoughts. Let me say this, in better words than my own, by copying a passage from that most interesting book, Robertson's Lectures on the Epistles to the Corinthians, Lecture XLIX. "If a man finds himself haunted by evil desires and unholy images, which will generally be at periodical hours, let him commit to memory passages of Scripture, or passages from the best writers in verse or prose. Let him store his mind with these, as safeguards to repeat when he lies awake in some restless night, or when despairing imaginations, or gloomy, suicidal thoughts, beset him. Let these be to him the sword, turning everywhere to keep the way of the Garden of Life from the intrusion of profaner footsteps."Fourthly, a "Shakespeare" for girls: that is, an edition in which everything, not suitable for the perusal of girls of (say) from 10 to 17, should be omitted. Few children under 10 would be likely to understand or enjoy the greatest of poets: and those, who have passed out of girlhood, may safely be left to read Shakespeare, in any edition, 'expurgated' or not, that they may prefer: but it seems a pity that so many children, in the intermediate stage, should be debarred from a great pleasure for want of an edition suitable to them. Neither Bowdler's, Chambers's, Brandram's, nor Cundell's 'Boudoir' Shakespeare, seems to me to meet the want: they are not sufficiently 'expurgated.' Bowdler's is the most extraordinary of all: looking through it, I am filled with a deep sense of wonder, considering what he has left in, that he should have cut anything out! Besides relentlessly erasing all that is unsuitable on the score of reverence or decency, I should be inclined to omit also all that seems too difficult, or not likely to interest young readers. The resulting book might be slightly fragmentary: but it would be a real treasure to all British maidens who have any taste for poetry.If it be needful to apologize to any one for the new departure I have taken in this story--by introducing, along with what will, I hope, prove to be acceptable nonsense for children, some of the graver thoughts of human life--it must be to one who has learned the Art of keeping such thoughts wholly at a distance in hours of mirth and careless ease. To him such a mixture will seem, no doubt, ill-judged and repulsive. And that such an Art exists I do not dispute: with youth, good health, and sufficient money, it seems quite possible to lead, for years together, a life of unmixed gaiety--with the exception of one solemn fact, with which we are liable to be confronted at any moment, even in the midst of the most brilliant company or the most sparkling entertainment. A man may fix his own times for admitting serious thought, for attending public worship, for prayer, for reading the Bible: all such matters he can defer to that 'convenient season', which is so apt never to occur at all: but he cannot defer, for one single moment, the necessity of attending to a message, which may come before he has finished reading this page,' this night shalt thy soul be required of thee.'The ever-present sense of this grim possibility has been, in all ages, 1 an incubus that men have striven to shake off. Few more interesting subjects of enquiry could be found, by a student of history, than the various weapons that have been used against this shadowy foe. Saddest of all must have been the thoughts of those who saw indeed an existence beyond the grave, but an existence far more terrible than annihilation--an existence as filmy, impalpable, all but invisible spectres, drifting about, through endless ages, in a world of shadows, with nothing to do, nothing to hope for, nothing to love! In the midst of the gay verses of that genial 'bon vivant' Horace, there stands one dreary word whose utter sadness goes to one's heart. It is the word 'exilium' in the well-known passageOmnes eodem cogimur, omniumVersatur urna serius ociusSors exitura et nos in aeternumExilium impositura cymbae.Yes, to him this present life--spite of all its weariness and all its sorrow--was the only life worth having: all else was 'exile'! Does it not seem almost incredible that one, holding such a creed, should ever have smiled?And many in this day, I fear, even though believing in an existence beyond the grave far more real than Horace ever dreamed of, yet regard it as a sort of 'exile' from all the joys of life, and so adopt Horace's theory, and say 'let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die.'We go to entertainments, such as the theatre--I say 'we', for I also go to the play, whenever I get a chance of seeing a really good one and keep at arm's length, if possible, the thought that we may not return alive. Yet how do you know--dear friend, whose patience has carried you through this garrulous preface that it may not be your lot, when mirth is fastest and most furious, to feel the sharp pang, or the deadly faintness, which heralds the final crisis--to see, with vague wonder, anxious friends bending over you to hear their troubled whispers perhaps yourself to shape the question, with trembling lips, "Is it serious?", and to be told "Yes: the end is near" (and oh, how different all Life will look when those words are said!)--how do you know, I say, that all this may not happen to you, this night?And dare you, knowing this, say to yourself "Well, perhaps it is an immoral play: perhaps the situations are a little too 'risky', the dialogue a little too strong, the 'business' a little too suggestive.I don't say that conscience is quite easy: but the piece is so clever, I must see it this once! I'll begin a stricter life to-morrow." To-morrow, and to-morrow, and tomorrow!"Who sins in hope, who, sinning, says,'Sorrow for sin God's judgement stays!'Against God's Spirit he lies; quite stops Mercy with insult; dares, and drops,Like a scorch'd fly, that spins in vainUpon the axis of its pain,Then takes its doom, to limp and crawl,Blind and forgot, from fall to fall."Let me pause for a moment to say that I believe this thought, of the possibility of death--if calmly realised, and steadily faced would be one of the best possible tests as to our going to any scene of amusement being right or wrong. If the thought of sudden death acquires, for you, a special horror when imagined as happening in a theatre, then be very sure the theatre is harmful for you, however harmless it may be for others; and that you are incurring a deadly peril in going. Be sure the safest rule is that we should not dare to live in any scene in which we dare not die.But, once realise what the true object is in life--that it is not pleasure, not knowledge, not even fame itself, 'that last infirmity of noble minds'--but that it is the development of character, the rising to a higher, nobler, purer standard, the building-up of the perfect Man--and then, so long as we feel that this is going on, and will (we trust) go on for evermore, death has for us no terror; it is not a shadow, but a light; not an end, but a beginning!One other matter may perhaps seem to call for apology--that I should have treated with such entire want of sympathy the British passion for 'Sport', which no doubt has been in by-gone days, and is still, in some forms of it, an excellent school for hardihood and for coolness in moments of danger.But I am not entirely without sympathy for genuine 'Sport': I can heartily admire the courage of the man who, with severe bodily toil, and at the risk of his life, hunts down some 'man-eating' tiger: and I can heartily sympathize with him when he exults in the glorious excitement of the chase and the hand-to-hand struggle with the monster brought to bay. But I can but look with deep wonder and sorrow on the hunter who, at his ease and in safety, can find pleasure in what involves, for some defenceless creature, wild terror and a death of agony: deeper, if the hunter be one who has pledged himself to preach to men the Religion of universal Love: deepest of all, if it be one of those 'tender and delicate' beings, whose very name serves as a symbol of Love--'thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women'--whose mission here is surely to help and comfort all that are in pain or sorrow!'Farewell, farewell! but this I tellTo thee, thou Wedding-Guest!He prayeth well, who loveth wellBoth man and bird and beast.He prayeth best, who loveth bestAll things both great and small;For the dear God who loveth us,He made and loveth all.' ~ Lewis Carroll, Sylvie and Bruno ,

*** NEWFULLDB 2.4M ***

1:ZANNA IN THE GARDEN ~ Chris d Lacey,
2:How sociable the garden was. ~ Thom Gunn,
3:I will go to the garden. ~ Robert Creeley,
4:Do not go to the garden of flowers! ~ Kabir,
5:The sunlight on the garden ~ Louis MacNeice,
6:the Garden of Ediacara. ~ Peter Godfrey Smith,
7:The garden is a kind of sanctuary. ~ John Berger,
8:The garden that is finished is dead. ~ H E Bates,
9:In the garden of gentle sanity, ~ Chogyam Trungpa,
10:The body is the garden of the soul. ~ Tony Kushner,
11:Erik Larson’s In the Garden of Beasts, ~ Dean Koontz,
12:Forget the planet, save the garden. ~ Colin Cotterill,
13:Nobody can stay in the Garden of Eden. ~ James Baldwin,
14:(PORTRAIT: Adam and Adam in the Garden) ~ Jandy Nelson,
15:Charity is the entrance to the garden. ~ Seth Adam Smith,
16:The snake stood up for evil in the Garden. ~ Robert Frost,
17:If you rest too long the weeds take the garden. ~ Jim Rohn,
18:Mama worked outside the home — in the garden. ~ Glenn Beck,
19:Success is buried in the garden of failure. ~ Rick Wakeman,
20:To the garden of the world anew descending, ~ Walt Whitman,
21:We, the garden of technology. We, undecidable. ~ John Cage,
22:And Spring arose on the garden fair, ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley,
23:I have blossomed so much, I am the envy of the gardens. ~ Rumi,
24:Love grows wildest in the gardens of hardship. ~ Nadia Hashimi,
25:Perhaps it is the key to the garden! ~ Frances Hodgson Burnett,
26:I allow no hot-beds in the gardens of Parnassus. ~ Charles Lamb,
27:Feare keepes the garden better then the gardiner. ~ George Herbert,
28:The garden of the world has no limits, except in your mind. ~ Rumi,
29:Near yonder copse, where once the garden smil'd, ~ Oliver Goldsmith,
30:All of the worlds problems can be solved in the garden ~ Geoff Lawton,
31:Nature soon takes over if the gardener is absent. ~ Penelope Hobhouse,
32:Temptation has been here ever since the Garden of Eden. ~ Jerry Falwell,
33:exactly the garden spot of the Garden State. In truth, ~ Janet Evanovich,
34:I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. John 15:1 ~ Anonymous,
35:This is the Garden which you have inherited by your labours. ~ Anonymous,
36:Robertson Ay was sitting in the garden busily doing nothing. ~ P L Travers,
37:The glory of the garden lies in more than meets the eye. ~ Rudyard Kipling,
38:Someone in the garden is delaying the passing of time. ~ Alejandra Pizarnik,
39:the gardens of our childhood are all beautiful. ~ Barbara Grizzuti Harrison,
40:To find the right things, we’ll need to go to the garden. ~ Timothy Ferriss,
41:From all of our beginnings, we keep reliving the Garden story. ~ Ann Voskamp,
42:The garden of the world has no limits except in your mind. ~ Jalaluddin Rumi,
43:going into the garden at once; but, alas for poor Alice! when ~ Lewis Carroll,
44:no better occupation than to look down into the garden. ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne,
45:O my friends, plant only flowers of love in the garden of hearts. ~ Baha-ullah,
46:Do not linger in the garden of memories, for there are many traps. ~ Stacey Lee,
47:My cat did that the other day when he came in from the garden. ~ Ann Widdecombe,
48:The garden is an unemployed township-based man's cubicle. ~ Mokokoma Mokhonoana,
49:What have you done with the garden that was entrusted to you? ~ Antonio Machado,
50:As to the garden, it seems to me its chief fruit is-blackbirds. ~ William Morris,
51:Prohibition didn't work in the Garden of Eden. Adam ate the apple. ~ Vicente Fox,
52:When you live in the garden of hope, something is always blooming! ~ Joyce Meyer,
53:Rain in the dump makes water filthy. Rain in the garden cleanses. ~ Camron Wright,
54:The Earth is our environment to protect and the garden to tend to. ~ Pope Francis,
55:So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden ~ Thomas C Foster,
56:Patience is the Gnostic's scale and the humble the garden's door. ~ Samael Aun Weor,
57:Change layover the stairs and the kitchen and the garden like fog. ~ Shirley Jackson,
58:In the garden I will die. In the rosebush they will kill me. ~ Federico Garcia Lorca,
59:In the garden of my heart, the flowers of peace bloom beautifully. ~ Thich Nhat Hanh,
60:Meditation is the art removing the weeds from the garden of possibilities. ~ Amit Ray,
61:The cat was on the window ledge, gazing intently into the garden. ~ Diane Setterfield,
62:Those who sit in the house of grief will someday sit in the garden. ~ Gregory Maguire,
63:Go to the meadows, go to the garden, go to the woods. Open your eyes! ~ Albert Hofmann,
64:"In the garden of my heart, the flowers of peace bloom beautifully." ~ Thich Nhat Hanh,
65:At the front of my home, in the garden, is a huge piece of clear quartz. ~ Miranda Kerr,
66:The city mouse lives in a house, The garden mouse lives in a bower ~ Christina Rossetti,
67:With the lapse of every moment, the garden grew more picturesque; ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne,
68:For children, most importantly, being in the garden is something magical. ~ Fritjof Capra,
69:I like solitary pursuits, such as reading or pottering about in the garden. ~ Hayley Mills,
70:I pulled myself out of the guard’s arms and ran like a drunk into the garden. ~ Kiera Cass,
71:Nationalism cannot flower if it does not grow in the garden of internationalism. ~ Sukarno,
72:I dined upon a bird, and radishes from the garden, and homemade plum jam. ~ Shirley Jackson,
73:I, you, he, she, we In the garden of mystic lovers, these are not true distinctions. ~ Rumi,
74:Criticism, that fine flower of personal expression in the garden of letters. ~ Joseph Conrad,
75:Don’t kill doves in the garden. / You kill one and the others won’t come. ~ Malala Yousafzai,
76:In the garden of your days cultivate festivity, play and celebrations. ~ Mary Anne Radmacher,
77:I was going away, leaving behind me the villa, the garden and that summer. ~ Fran oise Sagan,
78:You have to weed the garden before you can plant flowers, must you not?” I ~ Rhiannon Thomas,
79:If the husband sits on a chair in the Garden of Eden, his wife is his footstool. ~ I L Peretz,
80:It’s that which is between the gardener and his bit of soil that makes a garden. ~ Robin Hobb,
81:The garden suggests there might be a place where we can meet nature halfway. ~ Michael Pollan,
82:Nobody can stay in the garden of Eden,’ Jacques said. And then: ‘I wonder why. ~ James Baldwin,
83:Nobody can stay in the garden of Eden," Jacques said. And then: "I wonder why. ~ James Baldwin,
84:Of the seven deadly sins, surely it is pride that most afflicts the gardener. ~ Michael Pollan,
85:To hold the garden’s fragrance in one vase, And see all autumn in a single spray? ~ Cao Xueqin,
86:In Japanese houses the interior melts into the gardens of the outside world. ~ Stephen Gardiner,
87:The gardener uses both roses in the flowerbed and thorns in making fences. ~ Hazrat Inayat Khan,
88:The LORD God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and keep it. ~ Anonymous,
89:The soul of a child is the loveliest flower that grows in the garden of God. ~ Elizabeth George,
90:Wayne's like my son, Brooklyn, who goes out in the garden to play and have fun. ~ David Beckham,
91:A sudden wind thrashed the treetops in the garden, sweeping down from the east. ~ Steven Erikson,
92:Guilt is the first weed we pluck, to keep the garden pretty and smelling sweet. ~ Steven Erikson,
93:I gasp, and I'm Eve in the Garden of Eden, and he's the serpent, and I cannot resist. ~ E L James,
94:I, you, he, she, we
In the garden of mystic lovers,
these are not true distinctions. ~ Rumi,
95:We are stardust, we are golden and we've got to get ourselves back to the garden. ~ Joni Mitchell,
96:You look like a butterfly that’s just flown in from the garden,” Hunt said softly. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
97:I call myself, 'The Estee Lauder of the garden world.' I'm my own little conglomerate. ~ C Z Guest,
98:In the garden of tabloid delight, there is always a clean towel and another song. ~ Lewis H Lapham,
99:I teach you to be warriors in the garden so you will never be gardeners in the war. ~ Tomi Adeyemi,
100:The garden is a metaphor for life, and gardening is a symbol of the spiritual path. ~ Larry Dossey,
101:To hold the garden’s fragrance in one vase,
And see all autumn in a single spray? ~ Cao Xueqin,
102:I travel the garden of music, thru inspiration. It's a large, very large garden, seen? ~ Peter Tosh,
103:She had a passionate longing for the garden, the darkness, the pure sky, the stars. ~ Anton Chekhov,
104:The garden of Eden was a boggy swamp just south of Croydon. You can see it over there. ~ Peter Cook,
105:All morning it has been raining.
In the language of the garden, this is happiness. ~ Mary Oliver,
106:All summer the smells of nettles and daisies and rainwater purl through the gardens. ~ Anthony Doerr,
107:As is the garden such is the gardener. A man's nature runs either to herbs or weeds. ~ Francis Bacon,
108:The moonlight had turned the gardens into a fairyland, magnificent and mysterious. ~ Jeanne Birdsall,
109:The garden of sarcasm is watered with impatience, and mine chose that moment to bloom. ~ Kevin Hearne,
110:Thy Return is as another Sun to Heaven; a new Rose blooming in the Garden of the Soul. ~ Omar Khayyam,
111:God is entirely and personally present in the wilderness, in the garden, in the field. ~ Martin Luther,
112:How many Zen masters does it take to screw in a light bulb? The plum tree in the garden! ~ Brad Warner,
113:Trade-offs have been with us ever since the late unpleasantness in the Garden of Eden. ~ Thomas Sowell,
114:When God created the Garden of Eden,
She became the first permaculturalist. ~ Khang Kijarro Nguyen,
115:You’re going to de-gnome the garden for me; they’re getting completely out of hand again ~ J K Rowling,
116:No guru, no method, no teacher, just you and I and nature, and the father in the garden. ~ Van Morrison,
117:The garden is a miraculous place, and anything can happen on a beautiful moonlit night. ~ William Joyce,
118:This practice of yoga is to remove the weeds from the body so that the garden can grow. ~ B K S Iyengar,
119:Many humans prefer tiny gods,” said the Gardener. “Tiny gods of limited preoccupations… ~ Sheri S Tepper,
120:If you don't look like Rupert Graves or Hugh Grant, they'll have you playing the gardener. ~ Jared Harris,
121:Sin has driven us out of the garden, but grace drives us right into the Father’s arms. ~ Paul David Tripp,
122:Birds' voices and the grove's moody colours offer Immortality when we enter the garden ~ ~ Jalaluddin Rumi,
123:Patience will be rewarded, the garden reminded me. Why was it so hard to listen sometimes? ~ Loretta Nyhan,
124:These days, you could stage a three-point orgy in the garden and nobody would bat an eye... ~ Angela Carter,
125:- Nothing. Although they are flowers you did not count on, they are still part of the garden. ~ Paulo Coelho,
126:The garden, by design, is concerned with both the interior and the land beyond the garden ~ Stephen Gardiner,
127:A certain king had a beautiful garden, and in the garden stood a tree which bore golden apples. ~ Jacob Grimm,
128:He’s back!” said George. “Dad’s home!” They hurried through the garden and back into the house. ~ J K Rowling,
129:Locke sank into a swoon; The Garden died; God took the spinning-jenny Out of his side. ~ William Butler Yeats,
130:There was always something sly about any act of education. Eve had learned that in the garden. ~ Paul Russell,
131:Unless the Gardener was visiting you, darkness in the Garden was the closest we got to truth. ~ Dot Hutchison,
132:And love, who can say the way it winds.. like a serpent in the garden of our untroubled minds ~ Daniel Handler,
133:A soul is a troublesome possession, and when man developed it he lost the Garden of Eden. ~ W Somerset Maugham,
134:Everything in the garden became suddenly vivid as if some general membrane had been peeled away. ~ Mark Haddon,
135:It's the gloomy things that need our help, if everything in the garden is sunny, why meddle? ~ Julian Fellowes,
136:Secrecy is the original sin. The fig leaf in the Garden of Eden. The basic crime against love. ~ Timothy Leary,
137:There is so much jasmine and nightshade in the garden that we all wake with lyrical headaches. ~ Frances Mayes,
138:Women have been deceiving men since the Garden of Eden. They’ve had centuries of practice. ~ Michael Schmicker,
139:I am agnostic only to the extent that I am agnostic about fairies at the bottom of the garden ~ Richard Dawkins,
140:(Nature provides the seed; man provides the garden; each is grateful for the other’s help.) ~ Elizabeth Gilbert,
141:You never know what’s going to be in the garden in June when you’re looking at it in January. ~ Corey Ann Haydu,
142:And don't think the garden loses its ecstasy in winter. It's quiet, but the roots are down there riotous. ~ Rumi,
143:Ever since his fall in the Garden of Eden, man has listened to his desires more than his reason. ~ Jerry Bridges,
144:If her time had been her own, she would have worked in the garden. That always soothed her spirits. ~ Anne Tyler,
145:In the beginning was the dog the real name of Jehovah is Rover. Adam's rib is buried in the garden ~ John Hegley,
146:The house was silent, but somewhere in the garden was a swimming pool filled with unsettled water. ~ J G Ballard,
147:The lawnmower is the most dangerous item in the garden. The second most dangerous is the flowerpot. ~ John Lloyd,
148:This town is like Gone with the Wind on mescaline!" From Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. ~ John Berendt,
149:A great challenge: stop ruining the garden which God has entrusted to us so that all may enjoy it. ~ Pope Francis,
150:A phrase from Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil came to mind: “Two tears in a bucket. Motherfuck it. ~ Zane,
151:On a mountain above the clouds once lived a man who had been the gardener of the emperor of Japan. ~ Tan Twan Eng,
152:That's what depression had wrought inside me: one, vast, barren rock garden-without the garden ~ Peter McWilliams,
153:The rich fruit of spontaneity grows in the garden that is well tended by the discipline of schedule. ~ John Piper,
154:Your deepest, most constant need is for My Peace. I have planted Peace in the garden of your heart, ~ Sarah Young,
155:Beauty is the garden scent of roses, murmuring water flowing gently...Can words describe the indescribable? ~ Rumi,
156:When I'm looking for an idea, I'll do anything--clean the closet, mow the lawn, work in the garden. ~ Kevin Henkes,
157:Woe to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in him. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche,
158:I would have stayed forever within the garden of Re-mose's childhood, but time is a mother's enemy. ~ Anita Diament,
159:There is no time in human history when you were more perfectly represented than in the Garden of Eden. ~ R C Sproul,
160:There's always the hyena of morality at the garden gate, and the real wolf at the end of the street. ~ D H Lawrence,
161:We're all assigned a piece of the garden, a corner of the universe that is ours to transform. ~ Marianne Williamson,
162:I had a moment of clarity, saw the feeling in the heart of things, walked out to the garden crying. ~ Allen Ginsberg,
163:Just what I need. My own personal shoulder devil, wearing black and smelling like the Garden of Eden. ~ Kim Harrison,
164:Lord, in this sweet eventide walk with me in the garden, and teach me the wisdom of faith. ~ Charles Haddon Spurgeon,
165:So what is keeping you out of the Garden? Your fear and desire: that which the Buddha transcended. ~ Joseph Campbell,
166:A lot of people have no idea that right now Y.A. (young adult). is the Garden of Eden of literature. ~ Sherman Alexie,
167:Now 'tis spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted; Suffer them now and they'll o'ergrow the garden. ~ William Shakespeare,
168:wished that I could also find “no better occupation than to look down into the garden” beneath my window, ~ Anonymous,
169:But in the garden of simple, where all of us are nameless, you were never anything but beautiful to me. ~ Ani DiFranco,
170:I live alone, with cats, books, pictures, fresh vegetables to cook, the garden, the hens to feed. ~ Jeanette Winterson,
171:Seconds slowed and passed before Nicholas's mind's eye like a parade of snails upon the garden path. ~ Raymond E Feist,
172:That there are no troubles in life that can't be sorted through or solved by spending time in the garden ~ Karen White,
173:The gardener's rule applies to youth and age: When young 'sow wild oats'; but when old, grow sage. ~ Henry James Byron,
174:What distinguishes a flower from a weed is only—and exactly—this: the choice of the gardener ~ Matthew Woodring Stover,
175:...and I went into the garden and lay down and looked at the stars in the sky and made myself negligible. ~ Mark Haddon,
176:At night, the creature that was the Garden peeled back its synthetic skin to show the skeleton beneath. ~ Dot Hutchison,
177:In the Garden of Eden Eve showed more courage than Adam.. when the serpent offered the forbidden fruit. ~ Cesare Borgia,
178:I read in one of the gardening books that manure was very good for soil, so I had a shitload delivered. ~ Kaaron Warren,
179:Not since the serpent
approached Eve in the Garden had a woman been so tempted by forbidden fruit. ~ Teresa Medeiros,
180:So he went on, tearing up all the flowers from the garden of his soul, and setting his heel upon them. ~ Upton Sinclair,
181:The very best relationship has a gardener and a flower. The gardener nurtures and the flower blooms. ~ Carole Radziwill,
182:And when wind and winter harden All the loveless land, It will whisper of the garden, You will understand. ~ Oscar Wilde,
183:Did perpetual happiness in the Garden of Eden maybe get so boring that eating the apple was justified? ~ Chuck Palahniuk,
184:In the garden of gentle sanity May you be bombarded by coconuts of wakefulness. —CHÖGYAM TRUNGPA RINPOCHE ~ Pema Ch dr n,
185:Mizzy has, again, wandered into the garden, like a child who feels no fealty to adult conversation. ~ Michael Cunningham,
186:The garden has taught me to live, to appreciate the times when things are fallow and when they're not. ~ Jamaica Kincaid,
187:Words themselves become beings, sentences becomenatural vegetation to be guided by the gardener's hands. ~ Eric Sevareid,
188:and my heart was as clean and hungry for promises as a monsoon morning in the gardens of Malabar. ~ Gregory David Roberts,
189:But it’s as my mother says: “If you want to learn how to grow cabbages, ask the gardener, not the goat. ~ Sholom Aleichem,
190:In the garden of literature, the highest and the most charismatic flowers are always the quotations. ~ Mehmet Murat ildan,
191:It's over the garden wall and we're going to see the Wizard, come what may and hell to pay.
-Elphaba ~ Gregory Maguire,
192:The gardener does not make a plant grow. The job of a gardener is to create optimal conditions for growth ~ Ken Robinson,
193:We've have to heed our Biblical obligation to be good stewards of the Earth after leaving the Garden of Eden. ~ Van Jones,
194:Adam, who said to our Lord in the Garden of Eden, I got more ribs - you got more broads? Never got a dinner! ~ Red Buttons,
195:Remember, the serpent is still living in the Garden of Eden. Only the heterosexual couple was expelled. ~ Edward Carpenter,
196:But for one's health as you say, it is very necessary to work in the garden and see the flowers growing. ~ Vincent Van Gogh,
197:He felt it deep, like a stone too big to heft out of the garden. He just had to how around it and make do. ~ Gary D Schmidt,
198:If we don't consciously plant the seeds of what we want in the gardens of our minds we'll end up with weeds. ~ Tony Robbins,
199:It has become much harder, in the past century, to tell where the garden leaves off and pure nature begins. ~ Michael Pollan,
200:What matters it, O breeze, If now has come the spring When I have lost them both The garden and my nest? ~ William Dalrymple,
201:“And don’t think the garden loses its ecstasy in winter. It’s quiet, but the roots are down there riotous.” ~ Jalaluddin Rumi,
202:I like to go for a walk or swimming or in the garden when I can. It's a busy kind of life, but I guess I'm lucky. ~ Brian May,
203:Kind hearts are the garden, kind thoughts are the roots, kind words are the blossoms, kind deeds are the fruit. ~ John Ruskin,
204:We can never be like lillies in the garden unless we have spent time as bulbs in the dark, totally ignored. ~ Oswald Chambers,
205:I love being naked. I do everything in the nude, even the gardening! We're Cuban, and it's a hot island. Why not? ~ Eva Mendes,
206:It is a golden maxim to cultivate the garden for the nose, and the eyes will take care of themselves. ~ Robert Louis Stevenson,
207:The peace of the gardens and the kindly lights in the windows poured a tender influence into his restless heart. ~ James Joyce,
208:This will be Great Mam's last spring. Her last June apples. Her last fresh roasting ears from the garden. ~ Barbara Kingsolver,
209:You can drive the devil out of your garden but you will find him again in the garden of your son. ~ Johann Heinrich Pestalozzi,
210:Earth is a flower in the Garden of Cosmos! And therefore, a flower on Earth is a flower within the flower! ~ Mehmet Murat ildan,
211:The ballet is a purely female thing; it is a woman, a garden of beautiful flowers, and man is the gardener. ~ George Balanchine,
212:Beauty is what I feel my life is about - the garden, the house, whatever. I see the world that way, yet it isn't. ~ Julie Newmar,
213:Zoya of the lost city. Zoya of the garden. Zoya bleeding in the snow. You are strong enough to survive the fall. ~ Leigh Bardugo,
214:Fawcett once described fear as the 'motive power of all evil' which had 'excluded humanity from the Garden of Eden. ~ David Grann,
215:The cyborg would not recognize the garden of Eden; it is not made of mud and cannot dream of returning to dust. ~ Donna J Haraway,
216:The gardener had a dread of small women; he'd always imagined them to have an anger disproportionate to their size. ~ John Irving,
217:The real wealth of a good gardener is not his salary but the marvellous flowers he is raising in the garden! ~ Mehmet Murat ildan,
218:When bad things happen, it's the time when you get to work in the garden and sort out the pots from the weeds. ~ Elizabeth Hurley,
219:if anything, you may think of me as Adam without his Eve, cast out of the Garden with no hope of ever returning. ~ Michael R Hicks,
220:It is not only me devoted to your kindness and beauty; walk in the gardens, you will find birds singing your name. ~ M F Moonzajer,
221:The cicadas, as if they were wired on the same circuit, suddenly filled the garden with a loud burst of celebration. ~ Peter Carey,
222:unreadable. “I’ve always said my mother is the biggest bitch on the hill, and the kindest flower in the garden. ~ Lisa Renee Jones,
223:Which is how I come to be running through the gardens of the Palace of Versailles, dressed only as Nature intended. ~ Mackenzi Lee,
224:If we descended from space aliens, that's just as viable as Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, as far as I'm concerned. ~ Jon Gries,
225:I loathe gardening, but I love gardens, and I have two beautiful gardens. I can not bear gardening, but I love gardens. ~ Elton John,
226:- It is like a marriage - said the gardener. - Along with the good things, a few little inconveniences always appear. ~ Paulo Coelho,
227:Take a walk through the garden of forgiveness and pick a flower of forgiveness for everything you have ever done. ~ Stephen Richards,
228:We are kept out of the Garden by our own fear and desire in relation to what we think to be the goods of our life. ~ Joseph Campbell,
229:Afterwards they went down the garden together to pick peas for supper, and to dream their dreams in the summer dusk. ~ Barbara Comyns,
230:A loving Personality dominates the Bible, walking among the trees of the garden and breathing fragrance over every scene. ~ A W Tozer,
231:Line of control must be renamed as garden of love and the barbed wire fencing should be replaced by the garden of flowers. ~ Amit Ray,
232:No occupation is so delightful to me as the culture of the earth, and no culture comparable to that of the garden. ~ Thomas Jefferson,
233:You always called me the gardener of your heart,” he said softly. “But you have gone and grown your flowers without me. ~ S Jae Jones,
234:My heart rushes into the garden, joyfully tasting all the delights. But reason frowns, disapproving of the heart's bad manners. ~ Rumi,
235:Perhaps the dead forget their lives in the calm of the Garden of Heaven. Perhaps that forgetting is itself what Heaven is. ~ John Wray,
236:Your fragrant breathlike the morning breezehas come to the stillness of the gardenYou have breathed new life into me ~ Jalaluddin Rumi,
237:It was not the apple on the tree but the pair on the ground that caused the trouble in the garden of Eden. ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning,
238:It was the garden of a man who wanted to rule the world but couldn’t, and so had cut the world down to his own size. ~ Anthony Horowitz,
239:Dead drunk and cold-sober, he wandered out into the garden in the cool of the evening, awaiting the coming of the Lord. ~ Peter De Vries,
240:Do you want to flourish in the garden of life? Life's gardeners pluck the weeds and care only for the productive plants. ~ Bryant McGill,
241:Even the garden of Eden was just a big fancy cage...You'll be a slave the rest of your life unless you bite the apple. ~ Chuck Palahniuk,
242:I am the call of love....
Can you hear me in the full grasses, in the scented winds ?
It is I who makes the garden smile. ~ Rumi,
243:In place of those sounds some cats were quarrelling, or making love, in the gardens running the length of the square. I ~ Anthony Powell,
244:The April winds are magical, And thrill our tuneful frames; The garden-walks are passional To bachelors and dames. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson,
245:As the Arabs say, "The nature of rain is the same, but it makes thorns grow in the marshes and flowers in the gardens. ~ Anthony de Mello,
246:...with each new book of mine I have always the feeling that this time I have picked a lemon in the garden of literature. ~ P G Wodehouse,
247:2The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, 3but God did say, ‘You must not eat fruit from ~ Anonymous,
248:He gave me a slice of honeycomb, and shooed me into the garden, where the raspberries snarled along the white gate. And ~ Jonathan Strahan,
249:there was a mews in a lane which runs down by one wall of the garden. I lent the ostlers a hand in rubbing down their ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
250:Well, I don't use the toilet much to pee in. I almost always pee in the yard or the garden, because I like to pee on my estate. ~ Iggy Pop,
251:After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going into the garden at once; but, alas for poor Alice! when ~ Anonymous,
252:God is a God who has not given up on His people. If He wanted to give up, He would have given up back in the Garden of Eden. ~ Kirk Cameron,
253:Hyacinth bean and papayas, long vines, deep roots. Palm trees outside the garden walls, with deep roots, stand a thousand years. ~ Lisa See,
254:vow to speak purely and lovingly. When my mouth is fragrant with right speech, a flower blooms in the garden of my heart. ~ Thich Nhat Hanh,
255:#WednesdayWisdomAnd don't think the garden loses its ecstasy in winter. It's quiet, but the roots are down there riotous. ~ Jalaluddin Rumi,
256:...when all the time it was that grand tree, taking up half the garden with its roots and not allowing anything else to grow. ~ Zadie Smith,
257:Beauty was worth
Its every sorrow, mind's fading or World's ending,
As darkness covered the garden that is the earth. ~ Hayden Carruth,
258:I think one of my very favorite films of all time was with Peter Sellers when he played Chauncey, the gardener. Being There. ~ Blythe Danner,
259:Love is like a beautiful flower which I may not touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight just the same. ~ Helen Keller,
260:We've got a wood-burning pizza oven in the garden - a luxury, I know, but it's one of the best investments I've ever made. ~ Gwyneth Paltrow,
261:When God created the Garden of Eden,
She didn’t use synthetic fertilizers, pesticides, herbicides and GMO apples. ~ Khang Kijarro Nguyen,
262:And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds and binding with briars my joys and desires. (from 'The Garden of Love') ~ William Blake,
263:It is the garden of peace you seek, but it is not a tangible place that exists in the world — it is within. Go there, within. ~ Bryant McGill,
264:We are each called to go through life reclaiming the planet an inch at a time until the Garden of Eden grows green again. ~ Joan D Chittister,
265:Whoever you are and wherever you come from, you grew into your present shape and form in the garden of your early childhood. ~ A S A Harrison,
266:And when your back stops aching and your hands begin to harden, You will find yourself a partner in the Glory of the Garden. ~ Rudyard Kipling,
267:The camera has its own kind of consciousness; in the lens the Garden of Eden itself would become ever so slightly too perfect. ~ Arthur Miller,
268:Thus up from the garden to the Gardener, from the sword to the Smith. To the life-giving Life and the Beauty that makes beautiful. ~ C S Lewis,
269:We don't live in the Garden. We live far from Eden. Every life is full of heartaches. Every life, frankly, is unspeakably sad. ~ John Eldredge,
270:You are exactly like a lunatic who should walk in the garden in the pouring rain and hold up an umbrella while he watered a plant. ~ Anonymous,
271:I called it the garden room because it had a white wooden bed, pale green carpet, and wallpaper decorated with vines and flowers. ~ Mary Simses,
272:If the foot of the trees were not tied to earth, they would be pursuing me.. For I have blossomed so much, I am the envy of the gardens. ~ Rumi,
273:So how would I do it again if I were to cater for the children in the garden rather than merely tolerate them? I would make places. ~ Monty Don,
274:The floating pollen seemed to be his notes made visible, and the dampness of the garden the weeping of the garden's sensibility. ~ Thomas Hardy,
275:The garden of Dr. Harden was full of sunshine and bosomed with Japanese magnolia trees dropping pink tears over the grass. ~ F Scott Fitzgerald,
276:The summer has ended. The garden withers. The mornings become chill. I am thirty, I am thirty-four–the years turn dry as leaves. ~ James Salter,
277:We are like every single plant and stone and view in the garden, I thought, the distance between one another carefully measured. ~ Tan Twan Eng,
278:With the long hours of daylight in the Alaska summers, the gardens served up a cornucopia of amazing and extra-large produce. ~ Debbie Macomber,
279:His manly duties covered the gardening, the bulb-changing and general maintenance, the woman did the washing, ironing, cleaning. ~ Milly Johnson,
280:The garden looks wonderful, Mama," I would always say when we arrived back at the house.
"It's chaos, darling."
"I like chaos. ~ Eva Rice,
281:The summer has ended. The garden withers. The mornings become chill. I am thirty, I am thirty-four -the years turn dry as leaves. ~ James Salter,
282:142Did you think you would enter the Garden without God first proving which of you would struggle for His cause and remain steadfast? ~ Anonymous,
283:Blood for the garden, young David,” she said in that smoky, patronizing blackbird voice of hers. “We always need blood for the garden. ~ S A Hunt,
284:The Garden of Eden, no doubt, looked fair before man was, but I always think that it must have been fairer when Eve adorned it. ~ H Rider Haggard,
285:The terrace and the whole place, the lawn and the garden beyond it, all I could see of the park, were empty with a great emptiness. ~ Henry James,
286:You have planted many seeds in the garden of possibilities. Meditation is the art removing the weeds from the garden of possibilities. ~ Amit Ray,
287:My heart rushes into the garden,
joyfully tasting all the delights.
But reason frowns, disapproving
of the heart's bad manners. ~ Rumi,
288:To counter-balance the natural humility of motherhood, I garden ... In the garden, more than any place, I really feel successful. ~ Glenda Jackson,
289:I will admit you are the finest if not the loveliest rose in the garden. But you see, my dear, I was looking for a sunflower. ~ Richelle E Goodrich,
290:The gardener knows how to turn garbage into compost. Therefore our anger, sadness, and fear is the best compost for our compassion. ~ Kayla Mueller,
291:think of those flowers you plant in the garden each year they will teach you that people too must wilt fall root rise in order to bloom ~ Rupi Kaur,
292:Good Grief,” cried Candy, in a very odd voice, “it’s Daddy!” pushing her hands violently against the gardener’s chest. “It’s Daddy! ~ Terry Southern,
293:Jesus said, "My Father is the gardener...He trims and cleans every branch that produces fruit so that it will produce even more fruit". ~ Max Lucado,
294:Mistletoe," said Kian, leading me to a spot in the center of the garden. He kissed me softly. "I hear it means something in your world. ~ Kailin Gow,
295:Man was exiled from the Garden for eating a single fruit, and now you propose to uproot the whole tree without the angels noticing. ~ G Willow Wilson,
296:The spirits of the air live on the smells Of fruit; and joy, with pinions light, roves round The gardens, or sits singing in the trees. ~ William Blake,
297:As for the garden of mint, the very smell of it alone recovers and refreshes our spirits, as the taste stirs up our appetite for meat. ~ Pliny the Elder,
298:For fountains, they are a Great Beauty and Refreshment, but Pools mar all, and make the Garden unwholesome, and full of Flies and Frogs. ~ Francis Bacon,
299:I’m not the kind of person who tries to explain a thing that has no explanation so I went to the garden and I pulled things out of it, ~ Catherine Lacey,
300:Where the pond's an open secret, where apple-trees whisper of waves, where the garden hanging on piles, holds the sky before its face. ~ Boris Pasternak,
301:You can spend your whole life traveling around the world searching for the Garden of Eden, or you can create it in your backyard. ~ Khang Kijarro Nguyen,
302:In the garden of dreams, there are many great seeds of possibilities waiting to sprout - looking for your attention - the water and the light. ~ Amit Ray,
303:Little by little, even with other cares, the slowly but surely working poison of the garden-mania begins to stir in my long-sluggish veins. ~ Henry James,
304:What brilliant criminals the Leader and his crowd are. They kidnap the nation by seizing our children.

From The Garden of Beasts. ~ Jeffery Deaver,
305:When those who have the title of shepherd play the part of wolves,” said Lothar of Saxony, “heresy grows in the garden of the Church. ~ Barbara W Tuchman,
306:All I really want is enough to live on, a little house in the country... and a tree in the garden with seven of my enemies hanging in it. ~ Heinrich Heine,
307:I got a little house in East L.A. and did the gardening. I was doing some acting here and there, doing my own thing... getting back to reality. ~ Adam Ant,
308:The first one that I went to with my friends was with my buddy Michael - and we actually cut class to get tickets - was INXS at the Garden. ~ Adam Richman,
309:The soil of our mind contains many seeds, positive and negative. We are the gardeners who identify, water, and cultivate the best seeds. ~ Thich Nhat Hanh,
310:She abandoned the garden, and the mums and asters that had trusted her to see them through to the first frost hung their waterlogged heads. ~ Nicole Krauss,
311:We have all been expelled from the Garden, but the ones who suffer most in exile are those who are still permitted to dream of perfection. ~ Stanley Kunitz,
312:And my wildly troubled love for you, which labored gently in the garden all through June, then tore the flowers up with its fists in July. ~ Laura Kasischke,
313:I did a concert at five years old in the garden of one of the church members, and we raised some money to buy a new piano in our little church. ~ Al Jarreau,
314:In the Garden of Eden Adam saw the animals before he named them: in the traditional system, children named the animals before they saw them.1 ~ Alan W Watts,
315:I rarely wear clothes when I'm home by myself. I love making breakfast naked. But you've got to make sure the gardener's not coming that day. ~ Kristen Bell,
316:Taste every fruit of every tree in the garden at least once. It is an insult to creation not to experience it fully. Temperance is wickedness. ~ Stephen Fry,
317:Children are a gift from the Lord, Jashub, but not essential to a union. The love between husband and wife was God's first gift in the garden. ~ Mesu Andrews,
318:O Lower self, which is better, the Garden of eternity or a glimpse of this world's unlawful bounty and its wretched, fleeting rubbish? ~ Abu Hamid al Ghazali,
319:The day they came to tell me, I was in one of the gardens with Kiernan, trying to decipher a three-hundred-year-old map of the palace grounds. ~ Eilis O Neal,
320:We will this year gather celestial fruits on earthly ground, where faith and hope have made the desert like the garden of the Lord. ~ Charles Haddon Spurgeon,
321:so i sneak out to the garden to see you, we keep quiet 'cause we're dead if they knew, so close your eyes, escape this town for a little while. ~ Taylor Swift,
322:Can you tell the story of redemption in one sentence? Sin has driven us out of the garden, but grace drives us right into the Father’s arms. ~ Paul David Tripp,
323:Ere Babylon was dust, The Magus Zoroaster, my dead child, Met his own image walking in the garden, That apparition, sole of men, he saw. ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley,
324:You take souls for vegetables.... The gardener can decide what will become of his carrots but no one can choose the good of others for them. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,
325:A miraculous healing awaits this planet once we accept our new responsibility to collectively tend the Garden, rather than fight over the turf. ~ Bruce H Lipton,
326:I am Valentino Rossi. If I stay in MotoGP it is to try to win. When that is not possible it is time to stay at home and work in the garden! ~ Valentino Garavani,
327:We've been doing something every year. We had a rock concert a few years ago to benefit the Garden of Dreams. And then we had the mask event. ~ Henrik Lundqvist,
328:Adam hid in the Garden of Eden. Moses tried to substitute his brother. Jonah jumped a boat and was swallowed by a whale. Man likes to run from God. ~ Mitch Albom,
329:Realism absorbs the ideal by adding a few small imperfections. Example: it paints a few specks of mud on the white gown of the Lady in the Garden. ~ Mason Cooley,
330:I could be the little match girl and strike my illusions against the wall, lost in the warmth until the glow faded and left me back in the Garden. ~ Dot Hutchison,
331:The garden of #love is green w/o limit & yields many fruits other than sorrow & #joy. ~ Jalaluddin Rumi #JoyTrain RT @VegyPower,
332:The garden where you sit
Has never a need of flowers,
For you are the blossoms
And only a fool or the blind
Would fail to know it ~ Louis de Berni res,
333:At night the Garden was a place of shadows and moonlight, where you could more clearly hear all the illusions that went into making it what it was. ~ Dot Hutchison,
334:I love planting. I love digging holes, putting plants in, tapping them in. And I love weeding, but I don't like tidying up the garden afterwards. ~ Jamaica Kincaid,
335:when man was put into the garden of eden, he was put there with the idea that he should work the land; and this proves that man was not born to be idle. ~ Voltaire,
336:I cry when I work in the garden, because the Sun, the rain, the wind and the Earth all work together to make us food and flowers. It just blows me away. ~ Robin Lim,
337:I will go where I will go
And I will jettison all dead weight
And I will use these words for kindling
And I will sleep by the garden gate. ~ John Darnielle,
338:Mottled light swept the garden, creating an
illusion of movement. The air rippled, on the edge of hearing, with the bittersweet song of a wingen. ~ Janalyn Voigt,
339:She would drink until the trembling stopped. Then she would wilt over the piano like one of Celia's spinaches when Tam Lin forgot to water the garden. ~ Nancy Farmer,
340:After all these years, I see that I was mistaken about Eve in the beginning; it is better to live outside the Garden with her than inside it without her. ~ Mark Twain,
341:And is this all?" cried Elizabeth. "I expected at least that the pigs were got into the garden, and here is nothing but Lady Catherine and her daughter. ~ Jane Austen,
342:As I walked into the garden, I nodded at my brother. A difficult childhood is like an invisible enemy, I thought. You never know when it will strike. ~ Benedict Wells,
343:I am writing in the garden. To write as one should of a garden one must write not outside it or merely somewhere near it, but in the garden. ~ Frances Hodgson Burnett,
344:Poor Alice! It was as much as she could do, lying down on one side, to look through into the garden with one eye; but to get through was more hopeless ~ Lewis Carroll,
345:Suddenly it seemed as if he might a sort of wood fairy who might be gone when she came into the garden again. He seemed too good to be true. ~ Frances Hodgson Burnett,
346:That's why there are ten gates to pass through before you reach the garden. If life were easy there would be one gate. There would be no gates at all. ~ Alice Hoffman,
347:When someone walks into my room and goes 'wow' at my record collection, at that moment I could actually hate music and just want to go sit in the garden. ~ Erol Alkan,
348:Birds are flying over the garden. What are you doing inside the house? Join them! If you can’t join them, at least open the window and greet them! ~ Mehmet Murat ildan,
349:But evil has been around since the Garden of Eden, and God's plan for victory was designed before the world began. The Bible tells us to fear no evil. ~ David Jeremiah,
350:Disappointments are like weeds in the garden. You can let them grow and take over your life, or you can rout them out and let the flowers sprout. ~ Wanda E Brunstetter,
351:My dad got me a chemistry book one Christmas and I burnt the garden shed down. I remember there was the most beautiful smell forever after in the remains. ~ Beth Orton,
352:He doesn't say goodbye," Inej said. She kept her eyes on the lights of the canal. Somewhere in the garden, a night bird began to sing. "He just lets go. ~ Leigh Bardugo,
353:It was not the sun, but the moonlight that shimmered in the garden, edging the leaves with silver and touching the outlines of the statuary figures. ~ Diane Setterfield,
354:I was a tomboy running around in the garden. I used to play on a local cricket team. I grew up with all boy cousins, for the most part, and my brother. ~ Felicity Jones,
355:The ideal flower of hospitality is almost unknown to the rich; it can hardly be grown save in the gardens of the poor; it is one of their beatitudes. ~ George MacDonald,
356:Everything in the garden is dying, that’s what time of year it is. The leaves blaze and desiccate in their dying before twisting to the ground as ash. ~ Colson Whitehead,
357:I slunk off in direction of the cocktail table - the only place in the garden where a single man could linger without looking purposeless and alone. ~ F Scott Fitzgerald,
358:No one since the Garden of Eden - which the serpent forsook in order to run for higher office - has imputed to politicians great purity of motive. ~ William F Buckley Jr,
359:Paradise is precarious. Just one little thing …” He mimes a little shove. “Can push it into imbalance. It didn’t take much to screw up the Garden of Eden. ~ Chuck Wendig,
360:The garden of the world has no limits Except in your mind. Its presence is more beautiful than the stars With more clarity Than the polished mirror of your heart. ~ Rumi,
361:The garden of the world has no limits except in your mind. Its presence is more beautiful than the stars with more clarity than the polished mirror of your heart. ~ Rumi,
362:The great challenge for the garden designer is not to make the garden look natural, but to make the garden so that the people in it will feel natural. ~ Lawrence Halprin,
363:When I'm writing, I think about the garden, and when I'm in the garden I think about writing. I do a lot of writing by putting something in the ground. ~ Jamaica Kincaid,
364:Adam was not alone in the Garden of Eden, however, and does not deserve all the credit; much is due to Eve, the first woman, and Satan, the first consultant. ~ Mark Twain,
365:Find the most delicate qualities within; then treat these qualities as tiny little seeds that you would plant in your heart, with you being the gardener. ~ John de Ruiter,
366:It’s called a shovel,” said the Senior Wrangler. “I’ve seen the gardeners use them. You stick the sharp end in the ground. Then it gets a bit technical. ~ Terry Pratchett,
367:One summer evening in the year 1848, three Cardinals and a missionary were dining together in the gardens of a villa in the Sabine hills, overlooking Rome. ~ Willa Cather,
368:Our days are numbered in the book of days, Most High," Gorgon murmurs as the garden comes once more into view. "That is what gives them sweetness and purpose. ~ Libba Bray,
369:There needs to be time for efficient data collection and time for inefficient contemplation, time to operate the machine and time to sit idly in the garden. ~ Nicholas Carr,
370:... there was a part of me that wanted to be liked, and despite all my years of reporting, I never quite adjusted to the role of skunk at the garden party. ~ Andrea Mitchell,
371:Walking out into the garden, Sangita sat on the grass to relish her coffee, enjoying the light warmth of the early morning sunrays in the cool weather. ~ Sundari Venkatraman,
372:Charming,” Puck commented, gazing around in distaste. “I love the barren, dead feel they’re going for. Who’s the gardener, I wonder? I’d love to get some tips. ~ Julie Kagawa,
373:Let whoever wants to, relax in the south, And bask in the garden of paradise. Here is the essence of north—and it's autumn I've chosen as this year's friend. ~ Anna Akhmatova,
374:The gardener hath gathered up this autumn's leaves. Who shall see them again, or who wot of them? And who shall say what hath befallen in the days of long ago? ~ Lord Dunsany,
375:...the moon that hung over the garden like some great priceless pearl, flawed and blemished with grey shadowy ridges as only a very great beauty can risk being. ~ Anita Desai,
376:Going out to the garden is to go on a holiday; when you travel amongst the flowers, your body touches heaven and your mind tastes the secrets of ataraxia! ~ Mehmet Murat ildan,
377:Grief can be the garden of compassion. If you keep your heart open through everything, your pain can become your greatest ally in your life's search for love and wisdom ~ Rumi,
378:To every kid in Georgetown and in all “the Gardens” of the world: your voices matter, your dreams matter, your lives matter. Be roses that grow in the concrete. ~ Angie Thomas,
379:Grief can be the garden of compassion. If you keep your heart open through everything, your pain can become your greatest ally in your life's search for love and wisdom. ~ Rumi,
380:He is out in the garden, picking a bouquet of foxgloves. He’s laughing, sunlight turning his brown hair gold… I bet he doesn’t even know those flowers are poison. ~ Holly Black,
381:The best ideas come unexpectedly from a conversation or a common activity like watering the garden. These can get lost or slip away if not acted on when they occur. ~ Ruth Asawa,
382:A red rose is not selfish because it wants to be a red rose. It would be horribly selfish if it wanted all the other flowers in the garden to be both red and roses. ~ Oscar Wilde,
383:From as young as I can remember, I always wanted to be a singer... My mum taught me 'Going Down the Garden to Eat Worms' for a competition when I was about 4. ~ Katherine Jenkins,
384:In a reality known as the garden of beautiful eden,
Adam is dreaming about his sinful children on earth.
He is struggling to wake up from a terrible nightmare. ~ Toba Beta,
385:Is it not the job of the gardener to shape the tree as much as possible? And shouldn't branches that begin to reach unreasonably high be the first to be pruned? ~ Neal Shusterman,
386:And to every kid in Georgetown and in all “the Gardens” of the world: your voices matter, your dreams matter, your lives matter. Be roses that grow in the concrete. ~ Angie Thomas,
387:It's her way of keeping Mariam close awhile yet before time has its way, before it snatches Mariam from the garden of her memory like a weed pulled by its roots. ~ Khaled Hosseini,
388:should I respect the work of the creator, of the gardener, or should I accept the survival instinct with which nature endowed this plant, which I now call a ‘weed’? ~ Paulo Coelho,
389:We have descended into the garden and caught three hundred slugs. How I love the mixture of the beautiful and the squalid in gardening. It makes it so lifelike. ~ Evelyn Underhill,
390:Adam hid in the Garden of Eden. Moses tried to substitute his brother. Jonah jumped a boat and was swallowed by a whale...Man likes to run from God. It's a tradition. ~ Mitch Albom,
391:A Tory minister can sleep in ten different women's beds in a week. A Labour minister gets it in the neck if he looks at his neighbour's wife over the garden fence. ~ Clement Attlee,
392:if i am the only one who can be the wilderness then let me be the wilderness the tree trunk cannot become the branch the jungle cannot become the garden so why should i ~ Rupi Kaur,
393:I slunk
off in the direction of the cocktail table—the only place in
the garden where a single man could linger without looking
purposeless and alone. ~ F Scott Fitzgerald,
394:Kitten is in the animal world what the rosebud is in the garden; the one the most beautiful of all young creatures, the other the loveliest of all opening flowers. ~ Robert Southey,
395:No occupation is so delightful to me as the culture of the earth, no culture comparable to that of the garden...But though an old man, I am but a young gardener. ~ Thomas Jefferson,
396:What would become of the garden if the gardener treated all the weeds and slugs and birds and trespassers as he would like to be treated, if he were in their place? ~ Thomas Huxley,
397:You desire the end but close your eyes to the means. You want the garden to be beautiful, provided that the smell of manure is kept well away from your fastidious nose. ~ P D James,
398:God gives us Her own self. Left to my own devices, I would prefer answers. This is why it is good that I am in charge of so little: the pets, the shopping, the garden. ~ Anne Lamott,
399:The Red Sox are a religion. Every year we re-enact the agony and the temptation in the Garden. Baseball child's play? Hell, up here in Boston it's a passion play. ~ George V Higgins,
400:We burst through the gardens, half leaping over wheelbarrows in the first, avoiding a crop of herbs in the second, and getting barked at by an evil terrier in the third. ~ Anonymous,
401:God does not lie in our collective past, God lies in our collective future; the Garden of Eden is tomorrow, not yetsterday; the Golden Age lies down the road, not up it. ~ Ken Wilber,
402:Hippie types who hadn’t a clue about makeup, knew how to start a fire, and weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty in the garden. I’d missed these people. My people. ~ Stephanie Land,
403:His pain in the garden became power in the tomb! His crucifixion on the cross became the defeat of death. His broken body became the resurrection hope for the world. ~ Lysa TerKeurst,
404:I teach you to be warriors in the garden so you will never be gardeners in the war. I give you the strength to fight, but you all must learn the strength of restraint. ~ Tomi Adeyemi,
405:The garden is an unhappy place for the perfectionist. Too much stands beyond our control here, and the only thing we can absolutely count on is eventual catastrophe. ~ Michael Pollan,
406:The garden of love is green without limit and yields many fruits other than sorrow or joy. Love is beyond either condition: without spring, without autumn, it is always fresh. ~ Rumi,
407:This is the centre of the gospel - this is what the Garden of Gethsemane and Good Friday are all about - that God has done astonishing and costly things to draw us near. ~ John Piper,
408:Animals are the messengers of the tree, and trees the gardens of animals. Life depends upon life. All forces, all elements, all life forms are the biomass of the tree. ~ Bill Mollison,
409:Are we to believe that Adam and Eve actually heard God’s footsteps rustling in the garden of Eden, as the text suggests, when it says that Adam and Eve hid themselves, ~ Elaine Pagels,
410:It's full of festering poison, this place, and it looks as peaceful and as innocent as the Garden of Eden."
"Even there," said Owen drily, "there was one serpent. ~ Agatha Christie,
411:Joe Frazier's life didn't start with Ali. I was a Golden Gloves champ. Gold medal in Tokyo '64. Heavyweight champion of the world long before I fought Ali in the Garden. ~ Joe Frazier,
412:Let whoever wants to, relax in the south,
And bask in the garden of paradise.
Here is the essence of north—and it's autumn
I've chosen as this year's friend. ~ Anna Akhmatova,
413:Perhaps one day it will be taken for granted that we should help every living creature, the trees, the bushes and flowers, yes even the earth, the soil. The Garden of Eden. ~ Uwe Timm,
414:There are dead girls to mourn, and living girls who will struggle for years to adjust to life outside the Garden, if they even can. He still counts this as a good day. ~ Dot Hutchison,
415:If you can’t smell the fragrance don’t come into the garden of Love. If you’re unwilling to undress don’t enter into the stream of Truth. Stay where you are. Don’t come our way. ~ Rumi,
416:This house was our dream-the gardens, the study, even the swimming pool. Even though I can't see John when I wake up in the morning, I can always feel him here with me. ~ Shirley Knight,
417:In the garden of our house, when I was three. My brothers and I had a jumping wall. I remember it as enormously high, but it was probably only about a foot and a half. ~ Juliet Stevenson,
418:Let's smuggle cider into the garden of Eden? Adam's apples are shite. Eve's cool. She calls it a SCAM. Smuggling Cocaine, Alcohol and Marijuana. But is the snake a grass? ~ Robert Sabbag,
419:Nike told me, 'We can't give you royalties because you're not a professional athlete.' I told them 'I'll go to the Garden and play one-on-no-one.' I'm a performance athlete! ~ Kanye West,
420:The Garden is a metaphor for the following: our minds, and our thinking in terms of pairs of opposites--man and woman, good and evil--are as holy as that of a god. (50) ~ Joseph Campbell,
421:Tom and I sit on a bench in the garden to watch the moon melt in an arc below the horizon as fast as ice on a warm hand before we can call the others to witness its exit. ~ Marion Coutts,
422:The seeds for the Garden were planted in 1973 by a group of volunteers who saw promise in a stretch of Piedmont Park that housed Atlanta’s greenhouses and a number of gardens. ~ Anonymous,
423:Time had come to formulate a reason to abandon the gardens and leave Miss Bower to leech onto some other gentleman, preferably one who had a certain fondness for parasites. ~ Sarah M Eden,
424:And to her, love was as big as the rocks on her ring and earrings, as wide as the garden that accommodated her guests, and as deep as the blue blood that ran in her veins. ~ Cinelle Barnes,
425:Below these words was the garden’s name in English: EVENING MISTS. I felt I was about to enter a place that existed only in the overlapping of air and water, light and time. ~ Tan Twan Eng,
426:The darkness was the foundation that everything else was built on. The garden where the universe grew. The simplest, most basic thing in existence. And it was spectacular. ~ Sharon Bayliss,
427:The garden stretched out in a soft drift, colors jumbled any way, an unmade bed of red and yellow and pink. Then came the trees. Apple, plum, and the Japanese black pine. ~ Cathleen Schine,
428:When I have trouble writing, I step outside my studio into the garden and pull weeds until my mind clears--I find weeding to be the best therapy there is for writer's block. ~ Irving Stone,
429:When I sat on a camp stool in the garden in a black coat with a black flap hat I felt like a marble guest who had returned from times long past into a strange world. ~ Daniel Paul Schreber,
430:When they have opened a gap in the ... wall of separation between the Garden of the Church and the wildernes of the world, God hath ever ... made his Garden a Wildernesse. ~ Roger Williams,
431:With a great effort the Don opened his eyes to see his son once more. He smelled the garden, the yellow shield of light smote his eyes, and he whispered, "Life is so beautiful. ~ Mario Puzo,
432:I sometimes think that never blows so red
The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled;
That every Hyacinth the Garden wears
Dropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head. ~ Omar Khayy m,
433:just as you would not neglect seeds that you planted with hope that they will bear vegetables and fruits and flowers so you must attend to nourish the garden of your becoming. ~ Jean Houston,
434:Not only must we follow the golden thread towards spiritual freedom, but we must also unravel the garden-variety twine that is wrapped tightly around our hearts and minds. ~ Elizabeth Lesser,
435:So who is guilty? Everyone, or no one? Why should the worker assigned to the gas chamber be guiltier than the worker assigned to the boilers, the garden, the vehicles? The ~ Jonathan Littell,
436:The master of the garden is the one who waters it, trims the branches, plants the seeds, and pulls the weeds. If you merely stroll through the garden, you are but an acolyte. ~ Vera Nazarian,
437:The rain to the wind said, You push and I'll pelt.' They so smote the garden bed That the flowers actually knelt, And lay lodged--though not dead. I know how the flowers felt. ~ Robert Frost,
438:They can certainly expect to be very impressed with the technical aspects of the show, fooled and led up the garden path by the story and ultimately have a jolly good laugh! ~ Louise Jameson,
439:When Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden of Eden, they probably did not fall into a state of original sin, as Saint Augustine believed, but into an agrarian economy. ~ Karen Armstrong,
440:You want to talk about big things, but it's the catches on the garden sheds and the London Zoo cards that give you the footholds; without them you wouldn't know where to start. ~ Nick Hornby,
441:Grief can be the garden of compassion. If you keep your heart open through everything, your pain can become your greatest ally in your life’s search for love and wisdom.” – Rumi ~ Brian Tracy,
442:I also know that we must cultivate our garden. For when man was put in the Garden of Eden, he was put there ut operaretur eum, to work; which proves that man was not born for rest. ~ Voltaire,
443:It's the sense of walking back into the Garden of Eden or something like that. Where suddenly everything is perfect and you see how you're connected to everything in the world. ~ Larkin Grimm,
444:Just as you would not neglect seeds that you planted with hope that they will bear vegetables and fruits and flowers, so must you attend to nourish the garden of your becoming. ~ Jean Houston,
445:That’s what the mother of the gardener’s boy said,” remarked Teresa; “she wanted me to have it destroyed, but I pointed out to her that she had eleven children and I had only one elk.  ~ Saki,
446:Two trees—knowledge and life. You eat of the tree of knowledge, and you will surely die. You eat of the tree of life, and you remain a child in the garden forever, undying. ~ Orson Scott Card,
447:What I love about the currawongs is the way in which they appear from nowhere and, for a brief period, rule the garden's soundscape, only to disappear as quickly as they arrived. ~ John Gould,
448:Got to rush through the garden like every other task we have. If we are trying to add joy to our lives, reliance on paradigms can blind us to the glorious detail of our experience. ~ Anonymous,
449:The Garden trapped me like an animal. The Governess sold me like livestock at an auction. And the mayor and his family would have made me their whore. I am shaking with rage. ~ Kristen Simmons,
450:The place between actual seasons is filled with tiny roses in transition. There are murders and amputations in the garden. There are choirs on the sandy floors beneath oceans. ~ Kate Braverman,
451:There may be fairies at the bottom of the garden. There is no evidence for it, but you can't prove that there aren't any, so shouldn't we be agnostic with respect to fairies? ~ Richard Dawkins,
452:After lunch we went into the garden for coffee and I turned on the Surgeon-General with his graphics, percentages etc. of sick and wounded to entertain the Premier. ~ Douglas Haig 1st Earl Haig,
453:I loved to walk in her garden after dinner; it felt alive, even in the winter. She always told me that rosemary grows in the garden of a strong woman. Hers were like trees. ~ Erica Bauermeister,
454:I think people should maybe just go out into the garden and watch a ladybug crawl across a flower and relax their mind. That's about all you need to know about life, I think. ~ Harland Williams,
455:The gardener plants trees, not one berry of which he will ever see: and shall not a public man plant laws, institutions, government, in short, under the same conditions? ~ Marcus Tullius Cicero,
456:We must all pass through the garden of Gethsemane. If Christ played with doubt, so must we. If Christ spent an anguished night in prayer...then surely we are also permitted doubt. ~ Yann Martel,
457:When you left on Saturday, I felt a horrible void, I saw you everywhere, on the beach, in your room, in the garden: impossible for me to get used to the idea that you had left. ~ Camille Claudel,
458:Adam and Eve used to walk with Me in the garden, before their expulsion from Eden. I want you to walk with Me in the garden of your heart, where I have taken up permanent residence. ~ Sarah Young,
459:A visitor to a garden sees the successes, usually. The gardener remembers mistakes and losses, some for a long time, and imagines the garden in a year, and in an unimaginable future. ~ W S Merwin,
460:the track at the end of the garden with its trains, always taking someone else to somewhere else, reminding me over and over and over, a dozen times a day, that I’m staying put. I ~ Paula Hawkins,
461:A man ought to carry himself in the world as an orange tree would if it could walk up and down in the garden, swinging perfume from every little censer it holds up in the air. ~ Henry Ward Beecher,
462:But there, standing at the entrance to the garden, wearing a khalat the colour of a breaking dawn and that faint smile that meant she knew she was outsmarting someone, was Shazad. ~ Alwyn Hamilton,
463:From December to March, there are for many of us three gardens - the garden outdoors, the garden of pots and bowls in the house, and the garden of the mind's eye. ~ Katharine Sergeant Angell White,
464:He could have set fire to it, the garden was dry enough, and burned it clean—privet, vines, and weeds; but he waited in his rooms through the winter instead, weeping and dreaming. ~ William H Gass,
465:Madam President, speaking here in Dublin Castle it is impossible to ignore the weight of history, as it was yesterday when you and I laid wreaths at the Garden of Remembrance. ~ Queen Elizabeth II,
466:We must all wage an intense, lifelong battle against the constant downward pull. If we relax, the bugs and weeds of negativity will move into the garden and take away everything of value. ~ Jim Rohn,
467:The lime trees were in bloom. But in the early morning only a faint fragrance drifted through the garden, an airy message, an aromatic echo of the dreams during the short summer night. ~ Isak Dinesen,
468:They’d gone walking through the garden that was lit with twinkly lights, and Alex had surprised her with a kiss. And that was the moment she knew she wasn’t going to her hotel alone. ~ Samantha Chase,
469:After his death the gardener does not become a butterfly, intoxicated by the perfumes of the flowers, but a garden worm tasting all the dark, nitrogenous, and spicy delights of the soil. ~ Karel Capek,
470:One does not lash hat lies at a distance. The foibles that we ridicule must at least be a little bit our own. Only then will the work be a part of our own flesh. The garden must be weeded. ~ Paul Klee,
471:And the Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest. ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley,
472:Eve tasted the apple in the Garden of Eden in order to slake that intense thirst for knowledge that the simple pleasure of picking flowers and talking to Adam could not satisfy. ~ Elizabeth Cady Stanton,
473:I believe ingratitude is the original sin. I believe if Adam and Eve had been grateful for the garden of Eden they had, they would not have been so focused on the one tree they didn't have. ~ Max Lucado,
474:In the end, I'm only going next door.
To the end of the corridor, into my favorite room.
And from there, out into the garden.
And there I will become light and go wherever I want. ~ Nina George,
475:She rose to her feet and preceded me into the garden twilight. Tall and queenly, the woman of mystery strolled among the silent trees and above her head the myriad stars glowed tenderly. ~ Hermann Hesse,
476:You are necessary to that end, and to are all I have of the garden. You are the image of me and of the One. And if you have wronged, then I have surely repaid your wrong twice over. ~ Tosca Lee,
477:And they heard the sound of the LORD God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the LORD God among the trees of the garden. ~ Anonymous,
478:The gardener's work is never at at end; it begins with the year, and continues to the next: he prepares the ground, and then he sows it; after that he plants, and then he gathers the fruits. ~ John Evelyn,
479:the same as I do now—you know, cooking, cleaning, gardening—when the weather permits.’ ‘You’ll have to come for Sunday lunch next time and see the garden,’ says Jack. ‘Grace has green fingers. ~ B A Paris,
480:Consider my lady, I’m the gardener and I know what the vine needs in order to thrive. You only see the stripping, but I cut the vine in order to restore it. I take away from it to enrich it. ~ Tessa Afshar,
481:In the Buddhist view... what is keeping us out of the garden is not the jealousy or wrath of any god, but our own instinctive attachment to what we take to be our lives. ~ Joseph Campbell, Myths to Live By,
482:The rain to the wind said,
You push and I'll pelt.'
They so smote the garden bed
That the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodged--though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt. ~ Robert Frost,
483:Mindfulness isn’t something we practice only in the meditation hall; we also practice in the kitchen, in the garden, or when we’re on the telephone, driving the car, or washing the dishes. ~ Thich Nhat Hanh,
484:My friend you must understand that time forks perpetually into countless futures. And in at least one of them I have become your enemy. Jorge Luis Borges, The Garden of Forking Paths (1941) ~ Adrian McKinty,
485:My music is homegrown from the garden of New Orleans. Music is everything to me short of breathing. Music also has a role to lift you up - not to be escapist but to take you out of misery. ~ Allen Toussaint,
486:WESLEY AYERS is the stranger in the halls of the Coronado. He is the Keeper in the garden who shares my secret. He is the boy who reads me books. He is the one who teaches me how to touch. ~ Victoria Schwab,
487:Doing the good deeds is like the grass in the garden. You don't see its growth. But, it does by days. Doing the wicked deeds is like the hone. You don't see its damage. But, it does by days. ~ Gautama Buddha,
488:I sailed on the cold air currents above the rooftops of Paris. I could see the river, the Louvre Museum, the gardens and palaces. And a mouse-yum. Hang on, Carter, I thought. not hunting mice. ~ Rick Riordan,
489:The difference between the man who just cuts lawns and a real gardener is in the touching. The lawn cutter might just as well not have been there at all; the gardener will be there a lifetime. ~ Ray Bradbury,
490:The difference between the man who just cuts lawns and a real gardener is in the touching. The lawn-cutter might just as well not have been there at all; the gardener will be there a lifetime. ~ Ray Bradbury,
491:The garden was crossed by a path of red gravel, edged by a border of thick box, of many years' growth, and of a tone and color that would have delighted the heart of Delacroix, our modern Rubens. ~ Anonymous,
492:Cruelty to punctuation is quite unlegislated: you can get away with pulling the legs off semicolons; shrivelling question marks on the garden path under a powerful magnifying glass; you name it. ~ Lynne Truss,
493:I am the true grapevine, and my Father is the gardener. 2 He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn’t produce fruit, and he prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more. ~ Anonymous,
494:Machines are the opium of the masses. If all the machines in England were thrown into the North Sea tomorrow, we should be back in the Garden of Eden. And the weather would probably improve. ~ Helen Cresswell,
495:The doctor unfurled her wings into Maximum Righteousness Mode. The flaming sword was in her hand. She pointed with it like the archangel casting us out of the garden. “Get your ass back there! ~ Daryl Gregory,
496:The first colours touched the garden, deep green and then deep red – transience was my pigmentation; my roots would never go deep enough anywhere to make me a home or make me secure with love. ~ Graham Greene,
497:The model for me is a touchstone, it is a door which I must break open in order to reach the garden in which I am alone and feel good, even the model exists only for what use I can make of it. ~ Henri Matisse,
498:They let me know that we are here to create and that there’s always enough in the garden, and we must defend that against our fear. We have to be playful as we plant, grow, and co-create. ~ Colette Baron Reid,
499:a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going into the garden at once; but, alas for poor Alice! when she got to the door, she found she had forgotten the little golden key, ~ Lewis Carroll,
500:But I smell the roses not just to remind myself of how lucky I am, but also to wonder how on earth it all happened. I smell the roses to try and figure out how I came to be in the garden at all. ~ Alan Cumming,

--- IN CHAPTERS (in Dictionaries, in Quotes, in Chapters)


   6 Occultism
   2 Christianity
   1 Yoga
   1 Integral Yoga
   1 Integral Theory

   15 Sri Ramakrishna
   7 The Mother
   6 Aleister Crowley
   4 Lewis Carroll
   3 Saint Teresa of Avila
   2 Sri Aurobindo
   2 Saint Augustine of Hippo
   2 Jorge Luis Borges

   18 The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna
   7 The Mothers Agenda
   5 The Secret Doctrine
   5 The Bible
   4 Magick Without Tears
   4 Collected Poems
   4 Alice in Wonderland
   3 Words Of Long Ago
   3 The Way of Perfection
   3 The Hero with a Thousand Faces
   3 Talks
   3 Savitri
   3 Liber ABA
   3 Beating the Cloth Drum Letters of Zen Master Hakuin
   2 The Confessions of Saint Augustine
   2 Talks With Sri Aurobindo
   2 Selected Fictions

06.01_-_The_Word_of_Fate, #Savitri, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  And one day it shall hear a blissful voice
  And in the Garden of the Spouse shall bloom
  When she is seized by her discovered lord.
  Choose once again and leave this fated head,
  Death is the Gardener of this wonder-tree;
  Love's sweetness sleeps in his pale marble hand.

10.02_-_The_Gospel_of_Death_and_Vanity_of_the_Ideal, #Savitri, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  All else is only its outcome or its phase:
  Thy soul is a brief flower by the Gardener Mind
  Created in thy matter's terrain plot;

10.03_-_The_Debate_of_Love_and_Death, #Savitri, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  On the highways, in the Gardens of the world
  They wallowed oblivious of their divine parts,

1.00_-_Gospel, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  The temple garden stands directly on the east bank of the Ganges. The northern section of the land and a portion to the east contain an orchard, flower gardens, and two small reservoirs. The southern section is paved with brick and mortar. The visitor arriving by boat ascends the steps of an imposing bathing-Ght, which leads to the Chndni, a roofed terrace, on either side of which stand in a row six temples of iva. East of the terrace and the iva temples is a large court, paved, rectangular in shape, and running north and south. Two temples stand in the centre of this court, the larger one, to the south and facing south, being dedicated to Kli, and the smaller one, facing the Ganges, to Radhknta, that is, Krishna, the Consort of Rdh. Nine domes with spires surmount the temple of Kli, and before it stands the spacious Natmandir, or music hall, the terrace of which is supported by stately pillars. At the northwest and southwest corners of the temple compound are two Nahabats, or music towers, from which music flows at different times of day, especially at sunup, noon, and sundown, when the worship is performed in the temples. Three sides of the paved courtyard -all except the west - are lined with rooms set apart for kitchens, store-rooms, dining-rooms, and quarters for the temple staff and guests. The chamber in the northwest angle, just beyond the last of the iva temples, is of special interest to us; for here Sri Ramakrishna was to spend a considerable part of his life. To the west of this chamber is a semicircular porch overlooking the river. In front of the porch runs a footpath, north and south, and beyond the path is a large garden and, below the Garden, the Ganges. The orchard to the north of the buildings contains the Panchavati, the banyan, and the bel-tree, associated with Sri Ramakrishna's spiritual practices. Outside and to the north of the temple compound proper is the Kuthi, or bungalow, used by members of Rni Rsmani's family visiting the Garden. And north of the temple garden, separated from it by a high wall, is a powder-magazine belonging to the British Government.
  Keshab Chandra Sen and Sri Ramakrishna met for the first time in the Garden house of Jaygopl Sen at Belgharia, a few miles from Dakshinewar, where the great Brhmo leader was staying with some of his disciples. In many respects the two were poles apart, though an irresistible inner attraction was to make them intimate friends. The Master had realized God as Pure Spirit and Consciousness, but he believed in the various forms of God as well. Keshab, on the other hand, regarded image worship as idolatry and gave allegorical explanations of the Hindu deities. Keshab was an orator and a writer of books and magazine articles; Sri Ramakrishna had a horror of lecturing and hardly knew how to write his own name. Keshab's fame spread far and wide, even reaching the distant shores of England; the Master still led a secluded life in the village of Dakshinewar. Keshab emphasized social reforms for India's regeneration; to Sri Ramakrishna God-realization was the only goal of life. Keshab considered himself a disciple of Christ and accepted in a diluted form the Christian sacraments and Trinity; Sri Ramakrishna was the simple child of Kli, the Divine Mother, though he too, in a different way, acknowledged Christ's divinity. Keshab was a householder and took a real interest in the welfare of his children, whereas Sri Ramakrishna was a paramahamsa and completely indifferent to the life of the world. Yet, as their acquaintance ripened into friendship, Sri Ramakrishna and Keshab held each other in great love and respect. Years later, at the news of Keshab's death, the Master felt as if half his body had become paralysed. Keshab's concepts of the harmony of religions and the Motherhood of God were deepened and enriched by his contact with Sri Ramakrishna.
  Contact with the Brahmos increased Sri Ramakrishna's longing to encounter aspirants who would be able to follow his teachings in their purest form. "There was no limit", he once declared, "to the longing I felt at that time. During the day-time I somehow managed to control it. The secular talk of the worldly-minded was galling to me, and I would look wistfully to the day when my own beloved companions would come. I hoped to find solace in conversing with them and relating to them my own realizations. Every little incident would remind me of them, and thoughts of them wholly engrossed me. I was already arranging in my mind what I should say to one and give to another, and so on. But when the day would come to a close I would not be able to curb my feelings. The thought that another day had gone by, and they had not come, oppressed me. When, during the evening service, the temples rang with the sound of bells and conchshells, I would climb to the roof of the Kuthi in the Garden and, writhing in anguish of heart, cry at the top of my voice: 'Come, my children! Oh, where are you? I cannot bear to live without you.' A mother never longed so intensely for the sight of her child, nor a friend for his companions, nor a lover for his sweetheart, as I longed for them. Oh, it was indescribable! Shortly after this period of yearning the devotees began to come."
  In 1882 Hriday was, dismissed from service in the Ka1i temple, for an act of indiscretion, and was ordered by the authorities never again to enter the Garden. In a way the hand of the Divine Mother may be seen even in this. Having taken care of Sri Ramakrishna during the stormy days of his spiritual discipline, Hriday had come naturally to consider himself the sole guardian of his uncle. None could approach the Master without his knowledge. And he would be extremely jealous if Sri Ramakrishna paid attention to anyone else. Hriday's removal made it possible for the real devotees of the Master to approach him freely and live with him in the temple garden.
  It took the group only a few days to become adjusted to the new environment. The Holy Mother, assisted by Sri Ramakrishna's niece, Lakshmi Devi, and a few woman devotees, took charge of the cooking for the Master and his attendants. Surendra willingly bore the major portion of the expenses, other householders contributing according to their means. Twelve disciples were constant attendants of the Master: Narendra, Rkhl, Bburm, Niranjan, Jogin, Ltu, Trak, the elder Gopl, Kli, ashi, arat, and the younger Gopl. Srad, Harish, Hari, Gangdhar, and Tulasi visited the Master from time to time and practised sdhana at home. Narendra, preparing for his law examination, brought his books to the Garden house in order to continue his studies during the infrequent spare moments. He encouraged his brother disciples to intensify their meditation, scriptural studies, and other spiritual disciplines. They all forgot their relatives and their worldly duties.
  On January 1, 1886, he felt better and came down to the Garden for a little stroll. It was about three o'clock in the afternoon. Some thirty lay disciples were in the hall or sitting about under the trees. Sri Ramakrishna said to Girish, "Well, Girish, what have you seen in me, that you proclaim me before everybody as an Incarnation of God?" Girish was not the man to be taken by surprise. He knelt before the Master and said with folded hands, "What can an insignificant person like myself say about the One whose glory even sages like Vysa and Vlmiki could not adequately measure?" The Master was profoundly moved. He said: "What more shall I say? I bless you all. Be illumined!" He fell into a spiritual mood. Hearing these words the devotees, one and all, became overwhelmed with emotion. They rushed to him and fell at his feet. He touched them all, and each received an appropriate benediction. Each of them, at the touch of the Master, experienced ineffable bliss. Some laughed, some wept, some sat down to meditate, some began to pray. Some saw light, some had visions of their Chosen Ideals, and some felt within their bodies the rush of spiritual power.
  While the devotees were returning to the Garden house, carrying the urn with the sacred ashes, a calm resignation came to their souls and they cried, "Victory unto the Guru!"

1.00_-_Preface, #Sri Aurobindo or the Adventure of Consciousness, #Satprem, #Integral Yoga
  BASED on the versicle in the Song of Songs, " Thy plants are an orchard of Pomegranates ", a book entitled Pardis Rimonim came to be written by Rabbi Moses Cordovero in the sixteenth century. By some authorities this philosopher is considered as the greatest lamp in post-Zoharic days of that spiritual Menorah, the Qabalah, which, with so rare a grace and so profuse an irradiation of the Supernal Light, illuminated the literature and religious philosophy of the Jewish people as well as their immediate and subsequent neighbours in the Dias- pora. The English equivalent of Pardis Rimonim - A Garden of Pomegranates - I have adopted as the title of my own modest work, although I am forced to confess that this latter has but little connection either in actual fact or in historicity with that of Cordovero. In the golden harvest of purely spiritual intimations which the Holy Qabalah brings, I truly feel that a veritable garden of the soul may be builded ; a garden of immense magnitude and lofty significance, wherein may be discovered by each one of us all manner and kind of exotic fruit and gracious flower of exquisite colour. The pomegranate, may I add, has always been for mystics everywhere a favourable object for recon- dite symbolism. the Garden or orchard has likewise pro- duced in that book named The Book of Splendour an almost inexhaustible treasury of spiritual imagery of superb and magnificent taste.

1.01_-_DOWN_THE_RABBIT-HOLE, #Alice in Wonderland, #Lewis Carroll, #Fiction
  And so it was indeed! She was now only ten inches high, and her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going through the little door into that lovely garden.
  After awhile, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going into the Garden at once; but, alas for poor Alice! When she got to the door, she found she had forgotten the little golden key, and when she went back to the table for it, she found she could not possibly reach it: she could see it quite plainly through the glass and she tried her best to climb up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery, and when she had tired herself out with trying, the poor little thing sat down and cried.
  "Come, there's no use in crying like that!" said Alice to herself rather sharply. "I advise you to leave off this minute!" She generally gave herself very good advice (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes.
  ME" were beautifully marked in currants. "Well, I'll eat it," said
  Alice, "and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door: so either way I'll get into the Garden, and I don't care which happens!"
  She ate a little bit and said anxiously to herself, "Which way? Which way?" holding her hand on the top of her head to feel which way she was growing; and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the same size. So she set to work and very soon finished off the cake.

1.01_-_On_Love, #unset, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the Garden.

1.01_-_the_Call_to_Adventure, #The Hero with a Thousand Faces, #Joseph Campbell, #Mythology
  of her established dual-unity with King Daddy, or God's daugh
  ter Eve, now ripe to depart from the idyl of the Garden, or again,
  the supremely concentrated Future Buddha breaking past the

1.01_-_To_Watanabe_Sukefusa, #Beating the Cloth Drum Letters of Zen Master Hakuin, #Hakuin Ekaku, #Zen
  In contrast to these terrible tales of retribution, there are also accounts of children who thanks to heaven's miraculous intervention were enabled to carry out acts of great filial devotion: the story of a rare medicinal stone suddenly appearing in the Garden of a son who needed it to cure an ailing father; of midwinter ice breaking up and fresh carp leaping into the arms of a son whose stepmother had a craving for minced fish; of a poor man whose shovel struck a cauldron filled with gold as he was about to bury his child alive to ensure his mother would be adequately fed; of bamboo shoots emerging in midwinter for a son anxious to feed them to his mother; of a carp-filled fountain gushing up in the Garden of a son who wanted to satisfy his mother's yearning for fine water and minced fish.

1.02_-_THE_POOL_OF_TEARS, #Alice in Wonderland, #Lewis Carroll, #Fiction
  "Curiouser and curiouser!" cried Alice (she was so much surprised that for the moment she quite forgot how to speak good English). "Now I'm opening out like the largest telescope that ever was! Good-by, feet! Oh, my poor little feet, I wonder who will put on your shoes and stockings for you now, dears? I shall be a great deal too far off to trouble myself about you."
  Just at this moment her head struck against the roof of the hall; in fact, she was now rather more than nine feet high, and she at once took up the little golden key and hurried off to the Garden door.
  Poor Alice! It was as much as she could do, lying down on one side, to look through into the Garden with one eye; but to get through was more hopeless than ever. She sat down and began to cry again.
  She went on shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool all
  As she said this, she looked down at her hands and was surprised to see that she had put on one of the Rabbit's little white kid-gloves while she was talking. "How _can_ I have done that?" she thought. "I must be growing small again." She got up and went to the table to measure herself by it and found that she was now about two feet high and was going on shrinking rapidly. She soon found out that the cause of this was the fan she was holding and she dropped it hastily, just in time to save herself from shrinking away altogether.
  "That _was_ a narrow escape!" said Alice, a good deal frightened at the sudden change, but very glad to find herself still in existence. "And now for the Garden!" And she ran with all speed back to the little door; but, alas! the little door was shut again and the little golden key was lying on the glass table as before. "Things are worse than ever," thought the poor child, "for I never was so small as this before, never!"
  As she said these words, her foot slipped, and in another moment, splash! she was up to her chin in salt-water. Her first idea was that she had somehow fallen into the sea. However, she soon made out that she was in the pool of tears which she had wept when she was nine feet high.

1.02_-_Where_I_Lived,_and_What_I_Lived_For, #Walden, and On The Duty Of Civil Disobedience, #Henry David Thoreau, #Philosophy
  The only house I had been the owner of before, if I except a boat, was a tent, which I used occasionally when making excursions in the summer, and this is still rolled up in my garret; but the boat, after passing from hand to hand, has gone down the stream of time. With this more substantial shelter about me, I had made some progress toward settling in the world. This frame, so slightly clad, was a sort of crystallization around me, and reacted on the builder. It was suggestive somewhat as a picture in outlines. I did not need to go outdoors to take the air, for the atmosphere within had lost none of its freshness. It was not so much within doors as behind a door where I sat, even in the rainiest weather. The Harivansa says, An abode without birds is like a meat without seasoning. Such was not my abode, for I found myself suddenly neighbor to the birds; not by having imprisoned one, but having caged myself near them. I was not only nearer to some of those which commonly frequent the Garden and the orchard, but to those wilder and more thrilling songsters of the forest which never, or rarely, serenade a villager,the wood-thrush, the veery, the scarlet tanager, the field-sparrow, the whippoorwill, and many others.

1.03_-_To_Layman_Ishii, #Beating the Cloth Drum Letters of Zen Master Hakuin, #Hakuin Ekaku, #Zen
  Preserve and protect it with care.' The trouble is, the roots binding the students to life are still not severed. the Gardens of the patriarchs still lie beyond their farthest horizons. Any teacher who does this, though he may love his student dearly, causes him irreparable harm. For their part, the students start dancing around, rolling their heads this way and that way, wagging their tails joyfully, eagerly lapping away at the fox slobber doled out to them, completely unaware it is a virulent poison they consume.e They waste their entire lives stuck in a half-drunken, half-sober state of delusion. Not even the hand of a Buddha can cure them.

1.04_-_To_the_Priest_of_Rytan-ji, #Beating the Cloth Drum Letters of Zen Master Hakuin, #Hakuin Ekaku, #Zen
  Jik Anj has come and delivered another letter. I read it while we were having a cup of tea, and was glad to learn that you are in good health. You should not worry about me. I am doing fine, still spending much of my time in the Garden checking to see how my eggplants are coming along.

1.05_-_Bhakti_Yoga, #Amrita Gita, #Swami Sivananda Saraswati, #Hinduism
  8. Bhakti grows gradually just as you grow a flower or a tree in a garden. Cultivate Bhakti in the Garden of your heart gradually.

1.05_-_Some_Results_of_Initiation, #Knowledge of the Higher Worlds, #Rudolf Steiner, #Theosophy
   p. 175
   spiritual world. The founders of the great cosmogonies did not give mankind these teachings from some vague feeling. They gave them for the good reason that they were great initiates. Out of their knowledge did they shape their moral teachings. They knew how these would act upon the finer nature of man, and desired that their followers should gradually achieve the development of this finer nature. To live in the sense of these great cosmogonies means to work for the attainment of personal spiritual perfection. Only by so doing can man become a servant of the world and of humanity. Self-perfection is by no means self-seeking, for the imperfect man is an imperfect servant of the world and of humanity. The more perfect a man is, the better does he serve the world. "If the rose adorns itself, it adorns the Garden."

1.07_-_A_MAD_TEA-PARTY, #Alice in Wonderland, #Lewis Carroll, #Fiction
  "At any rate, I'll never go _there_ again!" said Alice, as she picked her way through the wood. "It's the stupidest tea-party I ever was at in all my life!" Just as she said this, she noticed that one of the trees had a door leading right into it. "That's very curious!" she thought. "I think I may as well go in at once." And in she went.
  Once more she found herself in the long hall and close to the little glass table. Taking the little golden key, she unlocked the door that led into the Garden. Then she set to work nibbling at the mushroom (she had kept a piece of it in her pocket) till she was about a foot high; then she walked down the little passage; and _then_--she found herself at last in the beautiful garden, among the bright flower-beds and the cool fountains.

1.08_-_THE_QUEEN'S_CROQUET_GROUND, #Alice in Wonderland, #Lewis Carroll, #Fiction
  A large rose-tree stood near the entrance of the Garden; the roses growing on it were white, but there were three gardeners at it, busily painting them red. Suddenly their eyes chanced to fall upon Alice, as she stood watching them. "Would you tell me, please," said Alice, a little timidly, "why you are painting those roses?"
  Five and Seven said nothing, but looked at Two. Two began, in a low voice, "Why, the fact is, you see, Miss, this here ought to have been a
  _red_ rose-tree, and we put a white one in by mistake; and, if the Queen was to find it out, we should all have our heads cut off, you know. So you see, Miss, we're doing our best, afore she comes, to--" At this moment, Five, who had been anxiously looking across the Garden, called out, "The Queen! The Queen!" and the three gardeners instantly threw themselves flat upon their faces. There was a sound of many footsteps and Alice looked 'round, eager to see the Queen.
  First came ten soldiers carrying clubs, with their hands and feet at the corners: next the ten courtiers; these were ornamented all over with diamonds. After these came the royal children; there were ten of them, all ornamented with hearts. Next came the guests, mostly Kings and Queens, and among them Alice recognized the White Rabbit. Then followed the Knave of Hearts, carrying the King's crown on a crimson velvet cushion; and last of all this grand procession came THE KING AND THE QUEEN OF HEARTS.
  "Not at all," said Alice.
  Alice thought she might as well go back and see how the game was going on. So she went off in search of her hedgehog. The hedgehog was engaged in a fight with another hedgehog, which seemed to Alice an excellent opportunity for croqueting one of them with the other; the only difficulty was that her flamingo was gone across to the other side of the Garden, where Alice could see it trying, in a helpless sort of way, to fly up into a tree. She caught the flamingo and tucked it away under her arm, that it might not escape again.
  Just then Alice ran across the Duchess (who was now out of prison). She tucked her arm affectionately into Alice's and they walked off together.

1.10_-_The_Revolutionary_Yogi, #Sri Aurobindo or the Adventure of Consciousness, #Satprem, #Integral Yoga
  Because it is not you, it is something within you. What can all these tribunals, what can all the powers of the world do to That which is within you, that Immortal, that Unborn and Undying One, whom the sword cannot pierce, whom the fire cannot burn? . . . Him the jail cannot confine and the gallows cannot end. What is there that you can fear when you are conscious of Him who is within you?126
  On May 4, 1908, at dawn, Sri Aurobindo was pulled out of bed at gunpoint by the British police. He was thirty-six. An attempt on the life of a British magistrate based in Calcutta had just failed. The bomb used in the attempt had been manufactured in the Garden where Barin,
  his younger brother, had been training "disciples."

1.12_-_The_Left-Hand_Path_.The_Black_Brothers., #Magick Without Tears, #Aleister Crowley, #Philosophy
    And the young man answered me: He shall not see the reward; he tendeth the Garden.
    All these words are heard by everyone that is called NEMO. And with that doth he apply himself to understanding. And he must understand the virtue of the waters of death, and he must understand the virtue of the sun and of the wind, and of the worm that turneth the earth, and of the stars that roof in the Garden. And he must understand the separate nature and property of every flower, or how shall he tend his garden?

1.14_-_The_Structure_and_Dynamics_of_the_Self, #Aion, #Carl Jung, #Psychology
  land as the heart of Europe with the Rhine, Ticino, Rhone, and
  Inn, or the Garden of Eden with the Gihon, Pison, Hiddekel,
  and Euphrates), as healing water and consecrated water, etc.
  serpent of Mercurius, that crafty and deceitful god, reminded
  them of the serpent in the Garden of Eden, and therefore of the
  devil, the tempter, who on their own admission played all sorts

1.201_-_Socrates, #unset, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  That is quite a long story, she said, but I will tell you all the same. When Aphrodite was born,156 all the gods held a feast. One of those present was Poros157 (Resource), whose mother was Metis158 (Cleverness). When the feast was over, Penia (Poverty) came begging, as happens on these occasions, and she stood by the door. Poros got drunk on the nectar in those days wine did not exist and having wandered into the Garden of Zeus was overcome with drink and went to sleep. Then Penia, because she herself had no resource, thought of a scheme to have a child by Poros, and accordingly she lay down beside him and became pregnant with a son, Love. Because Love was conceived during Aphrodites birthday feast and also because he is by his daimon (the source of English demon), which can mean a god but often denotes a lesser or local deity. Here Diotima characterises Love as a lesser deity, something between a god and a human. The Greeks of Platos day would usually have thought of Love simply as a god, but not one of the most important, Olympian, deities. See Gods and Love in Glossary of names. daimonios, a man of the spirit, spiritual; see footnote 151 above. techne. 154 cheirourgia. 155 banausos (English banausic).

1.400_-_1.450_Talks, #Talks, #Sri Ramana Maharshi, #Hinduism
  One day two sisters, who lived by prostitution, walked near the Garden and sat under a tree. One of them said, "How disgusting is my life that
  I soil my body and mind every day. This man's life is most desirable."
  Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi looked so lowly. She pleaded penitence for her past life, desired to lead a purer and nobler life and finished with a prayer to him to accept her humble services in the Garden or attendance on himself. He advised her to return home and lead a normal life. But she protested. So he detained her for watering the tulasi plants. She accepted the function with delight and began to work in the Garden.
  She still continued to work in the Garden.
  Sometimes she used to remain long in her home. Then this man began to visit her there until he finally lived with her. Nevertheless he did not neglect the Garden nor the daily garlands for God. There was public scandal regarding his change of life. God then resolved to restore him to his old ways and so assumed the shape of the saintly devotee himself. He appeared to the dasi and secretly offered her a rich present, an anklet of God.

1.439, #Talks, #Sri Ramana Maharshi, #Hinduism
  He remained a bachelor and was respected for his life and conduct.
  One day two sisters, who lived by prostitution, walked near the Garden and sat under a tree. One of them said, How disgusting is my life that
  I soil my body and mind every day. This mans life is most desirable.
  Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi looked so lowly. She pleaded penitence for her past life, desired to lead a purer and nobler life and finished with a prayer to him to accept her humble services in the Garden or attendance on himself. He advised her to return home and lead a normal life. But she protested. So he detained her for watering the tulasi plants. She accepted the function with delight and began to work in the Garden.
  One rainy night this woman was found standing under the eaves of the thatched shed in which the saint was. Her clothes were dripping and she was shivering with cold. The master asked why she was in such a pitiable state. She said that her place was exposed to the rains and so she sought shelter under the eaves and that she would retire as soon as the rain ceased. He asked her to move into the hut and later told her to change her wet clothes. She did not have dry cloth to put on. So he offered her one of his own clothes. She wore it, still later she begged permission to massage his feet. He consented. Eventually they embraced.
  The next day she returned home, had good food and wore fine clothes.
  She still continued to work in the Garden.
  Sometimes she used to remain long in her home. Then this man began to visit her there until he finally lived with her. Nevertheless he did not neglect the Garden nor the daily garlands for God. There was public scandal regarding his change of life. God then resolved to restore him to his old ways and so assumed the shape of the saintly devotee himself. He appeared to the dasi and secretly offered her a rich present, an anklet of God.
  She was very pleased with it and hid it under her pillow. He then disappeared. All these were secretly observed by a maid servant in the house.
  In the course of the conversation Sri Bhagavan spoke appreciatingly of the services of Palanisami and Ayyasami - his former attendants.
  He said that they raised in the Garden two crude platforms which were occupied by Himself and Palanisami; they were most comfortable. They were made of straw and bamboo mats and were even more comfortable than the sofa here. Palanisami used to pass through the footpath between rows of prickly pear to bring begged food every night from Kizhnathoor.
  Though Sri Bhagavan protested Palanisami persisted in doing so. He was

1.450_-_1.500_Talks, #Talks, #Sri Ramana Maharshi, #Hinduism
  He said that they raised in the Garden two crude platforms which were occupied by Himself and Palanisami; they were most comfortable. They were made of straw and bamboo mats and were even more comfortable than the sofa here. Palanisami used to pass through the footpath between rows of prickly pear to bring begged food every night from Kizhnathoor.

1.51_-_How_to_Recognise_Masters,_Angels,_etc.,_and_how_they_Work, #Magick Without Tears, #Aleister Crowley, #Philosophy
  We drove on a few yards. Then the chauffeur made up him mind to revolt, and stopped the car. On the left was a wide open gate through which we could see a gang of workmen engaged in pretending to repair a ramshackle villa. Virakam called the foreman and asked in broken Italian if the place was to let. He told her no; it was under repair. With crazy confidence she dragged him within and forced him to show her over the house. I sat in resigned disgust, not deigning to follow. Then my eyes suddenly saw down the Garden, two trees close together. I stooped. Their tops appeared. They were Persian Nuts! The stupid coincidence angered me, and yet some irresistible instinct compelled me to take out my note book and pencil and jot down the name written over the gate Villa Caldarazzo. Idly I added up the letters.[108] Their sum struck me like a bullet in my brain. It was 418, the number of the Magical Formula of the Aeon, a numerical hieroglyph of the Great Work. Ab-ul-Diz had made no mistake. My recognition of the right place was not to depend on a mere matter of trees, which might be found almost anywhere. Recognition beyond all possibility of doubt was what he promised. He had been as good as his word.

1.61_-_Power_and_Authority, #Magick Without Tears, #Aleister Crowley, #Philosophy
  Imagine, if you can, what I have been through in the last quarter of a century or more. My subordinates are always asking me for advancement in the Order; they think that if they were only members of the 266th degree everything in the Garden would be lovely. They think that if they only possessed the secrets of the 148th degree they would be able to perform all those miracles which at present escape them.

1.70_-_Morality_1, #Magick Without Tears, #Aleister Crowley, #Philosophy
  Now then, I hope that we have succeeded in clarifying this exceptionally muddy marish water of morality from most of its alien and toxic dirt; too often the Aspirant to the Sacred Wisdom finds no firm path under his feet; the Bog of Respectability mires him who sought the Garden of Delights; soon the last bubbles burst from his choked lungs; he is engulfed in the Slough of Despond.

2.01_-_MASTER_AND_DISCIPLE, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  As he left the room with Sidhu, he heard the sweet music of the evening service arising in the temple from gong, bell, drum, and cymbal. He could hear music from the nahabat, too, at the south end of the Garden. The sounds travelled over the Ganges, floating away and losing themselves in the distance. A soft spring wind was blowing, laden with the fragrance of flowers; the moon had just appeared. It was as if nature and man together were preparing for the evening worship. M. and Sidhu visited the twelve Siva temples, the Radhakanta temple, and the temple of Bhavatarini. And as M.

2.01_-_The_Road_of_Trials, #The Hero with a Thousand Faces, #Joseph Campbell, #Mythology
  tion and surrender. And that is part of our problem: just how
  to do that. "Or do ye think that ye shall enter the Garden of
  Bliss without such trials as came to those who passed away be

2.02_-_Habit_2_Begin_with_the_End_in_Mind, #The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, #Stephen Covey, #unset
  How anticipatory! How service-oriented!
  I next observed one of the employees high up on a ladder cleaning windows in the lobby. From his vantage point he saw a woman having a little difficulty in the Garden with a walker. She hadn't really fallen, and she was with other people. But he climbed down that ladder, went outside, helped the woman into the lobby and saw that she was properly taken care of. Then he went back and finished cleaning the windows.

2.02_-_The_Ishavasyopanishad_with_a_commentary_in_English, #Isha Upanishad, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  men in the workshop of utility, on the forge of Charvaka or
  grow them in the Garden of Epicurus. So is it with the lover of
  humanity, who loses or seeks to lose his lower self in mankind;

2.03_-_VISIT_TO_VIDYASAGAR, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  On the afternoon of August 5 the Master left Dakshineswar in a hackney carriage, accompanied by Bhavanath, M., and Hazra. Vidyasagar lived in Badurbagan, in central Calcutta, about six miles from Dakshineswar. On the way Sri Ramakrishna talked with his companions; but as the carriage neared Vidyasagar's house his mood suddenly changed. He was overpowered with divine ecstasy. Not noticing this, M. pointed out the Garden house where Raja Rammohan Roy had lived. The Master was annoyed and said, "I don't care about such things now." He was going into an ecstatic state.
  Everybody was delighted with the Master's conversation. Again addressing Vidyasagar, he said with a smile: "Please visit the temple garden some time - I mean the Garden of Rasmani. It's a charming place."

2.04_-_ADVICE_TO_HOUSEHOLDERS, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  "One day Jatindra came to the Garden of Jadu Mallick. I was there too. I asked him: 'What is the duty of man? Isn't it our duty to think of God?' Jatindra replied: 'We are worldly people. How is it possible for us to achieve liberation? Even King Yudhisthira had to have a vision of hell.' This made me very angry. I said to him: 'What sort of man are you? Of all the incidents of Yudhisthira's life, you remember only his seeing hell. You don't remember his truthfulness, his forbearance, his patience, his discrimination, his dispassion, his devotion to God.' I was about to say many more things, when Hriday stopped my mouth. After a little while Jatindra left the place, saying he had some other business to attend to.
  Sounds of conchshells and cymbals were carried on the air. The devotees came outside the room and saw the priests and servants gathering flowers in the Garden for the divine service in the temples. From the nahabat floated the sweet melody of musical instruments, befitting the morning hours.

2.05_-_Apotheosis, #The Hero with a Thousand Faces, #Joseph Campbell, #Mythology
  tion into duality; and it was naturally followed by the discovery
  of the duality of good and evil, exile from the Garden where God
  walks on earth, and thereupon the building of the wall of
  the beholder can pour.
  The guest approaches by the Garden path, and must stoop
  through the low entrance. He makes obeisance to the picture or

2.05_-_THE_MASTER_AND_KESHAB, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  About four o'clock in the afternoon the steamboat with Keshab and his Brahmo followers cast anchor in the Ganges alongside the Kli temple at Dakshineswar. The passengers saw in front of them the bathing-ghat and the chandni. To their left, in the temple compound, stood six temples of iva, and to their right another group of six iva temples. The white steeple of the Kli temple, the tree-tops of the Panchavati, and the silhouette of pine-trees stood high against the blue autumn sky. the Gardens between the two nahabats were filled with fragrant flowers, and along the bank of the Ganges were rows of flowering plants. The blue sky was reflected in the brown water of the river, the sacred Ganges, associated with the most ancient traditions of Aryan civilization. The outer world appeared soft and serene, and the hearts of the Brahmo devotees were filled with peace.

2.06_-_THE_MASTER_WITH_THE_BRAHMO_DEVOTEES, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  When the carriage bringing the Master and a few devotees reached the Garden house, the assembly stood up respectfully to receive him. There was a sudden silence, like that which comes when the curtain in a theatre is about to be rung up. People who had been conversing with one another now fixed their attention on the Master's serene face, eager not to lose one word that might fall from his lips.
  It was about half past eight when the evening worship began in the prayer hall. Soon the moon rose in the autumn sky and flooded the trees and creepers of the Garden with its light. After prayer the devotees began to sing. Sri Ramakrishna was dancing, intoxicated with love of God. The Brahmo devotees danced around him to the accompaniment of drums and cymbals. All appeared to be in a very joyous mood. The place echoed and reechoed with God's holy name. When the music had stopped, Sri Ramakrishna prostrated himself on the ground and, making salutations to the Divine Mother again and again, said: "Bhagavata-Bhakta-Bhagavan! My salutations at the feet of the jnanis! My salutations at the feet of the bhaktas! I salute the bhaktas who believe in God with form, and I salute the bhaktas who believe in God without form. I salute the knowers of Brahman of olden times. And my salutations at the feet of the modern knowers of Brahman of the Brahmo Samaj!"
  MASTER: "Is it possible to understand God's action and His motive? He creates, He preserves, and He destroys. Can we ever understand why He destroys? I say to the Divine Mother: 'O Mother, I do not need to understand. Please give me love for Thy Lotus Feet.' The aim of human life is to attain bhakti. As for other things, the Mother knows best. I have come to the Garden to eat mangoes. What is the use of my calculating the number of trees, branches, and leaves? I only eat the mangoes; I don't need to know the number of trees and leaves."
  MASTER (to the Marwari devotees): "You see, the feeling of 'I' and 'mine' is the result of ignorance. But to say, 'O God, Thou art the Doer; all these belong to Thee' is the sign of Knowledge. How can you say such a thing as 'mine'? The superintendent of the Garden says, 'This is my garden.' But if he is dismissed because of some misconduct, then he does not have the courage to take away even such a worthless thing as his mango-wood box. Anger and lust cannot be destroyed. Turn them toward God. If you must feel desire and temptation, then desire to realize God, feel tempted by Him. Discriminate and turn the passions away from worldly objects. When the elephant is about to devour a plaintain-tree in someone's garden, the mahut strikes it with his iron-tipped goad.

2.06_-_The_Wand, #Liber ABA, #Aleister Crowley, #Philosophy
  25:One does not say: "Cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground?" unless repeated prunings have convinced the Gardener that the growth must always be a rank one.

2.09_-_ADVICE_TO_THE_BRAHMOS, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  "Then there is the class of the everperfect. They are born in each life with their spiritual consciousness already awakened. Think of a spring whose outlet is obstructed. While looking after various things in the Garden, the plumber accidentally clears it and the water gushes out. Yet people are amazed to see the first manifestations of an everperfect soul's zeal for God. They say, 'Where was all this devotion and renunciation and love?'"

2.10_-_THE_MASTER_WITH_THE_BRAHMO_DEVOTEES_(II), #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  "Once a devotee was overwhelmed with ecstasy at the sight of a babla-tree. The idea flashed in his mind that the handle of the axe used in the Garden of the temple of Radhakanta was made from the wood of the babla. Another devotee had such devotion for his guru that he would be overwhelmed with divine feeling at the sight of his guru's neighbours. Krishna-consciousness would be kindled in Radha's mind at the sight of a cloud, a blue dress, or a painting of Krishna. She would become restless and cry like a mad person, 'Krishna, where art Thou?' "

2.11_-_WITH_THE_DEVOTEES_AT_DAKSHINEWAR, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  "One night a fisherman went into a garden and cast his net into the lake in order to steal some fish. The owner heard him and surrounded him with his servants. They brought lighted torches and began to search for him. In the mean time the fisherman smeared his body with ashes and sat under a tree, pretending to be a holy man. The owner and his men searched a great deal but could not find the thief. All they saw was a holy man covered with ashes, meditating under a tree. The next day the news spread in the neighbourhood that a great sage was staying in the Garden. People gathered there and saluted him with offerings of fruit, flowers, and sweets. Many also offered silver and copper coins. 'How strange!' thought the fisherman. 'I am not a genuine holy man, and still people show such devotion to me. I shall certainly realize God if I become a true sadhu. There is no doubt about it.'
  "You have taken so much trouble to come here. You must be seeking God. But almost everyone is satisfied simply by seeing the Garden. Only one or two look for its owner.
  MASTER: "There is no doubt that virtue and vice exist in the world; but God Himself is unattached to them. There may be good and bad smells in the air, but the air is not attached to them. The very nature of God's creation is that good and evil, righteousness and unrighteousness, will always exist in the world. Among the trees in the Garden one finds mango and jackfruit, and hog plum too. Haven't you noticed that even wicked men are needed? Suppose there are rough tenants on an estate; then the landlord must send a ruffian to control them."

2.12_-_THE_FESTIVAL_AT_PNIHTI, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  Sri Ramakrishna, accompanied by the devotees, took a carriage to return to Dakshineswar. They were going to pass the temple garden of Mati Seal on the way. For a long time the Master had been asking M. to take him to the reservoir in the Garden in order that he might teach him how to meditate on the formless God. There were tame fish in the reservoir. Nobody harmed them. Visitors threw puffed rice and other bits of food into the water, and the big fish came in swarms to eat the food. Fearlessly the fish swam in the water and sported there joyously.
  "Once Hriday brought a bull-calf here. I saw, one day, that he had tied it with a rope in the Garden, so that it might graze there. I asked him, 'Hriday, why do you tie the calf there every day?' 'Uncle,' he said, 'I am going to send this calf to our village. When it grows strong I shall yoke it to the plough.' As soon as I heard these words I was stunned to think: 'How inscrutable is the play of the divine maya! Kamarpukur and Sihore are so far away from Calcutta! This poor calf must go all that way. Then it will grow, and at length it will be yoked to the plough. This is indeed the world! This is indeed maya!' I fell down unconscious. Only after a long time did I regain consciousness."
  M: "They are satisfied, as you say, with describing the Garden, but they seldom speak of seeing the Master of the Garden. Describing the Garden is the beginning and end of their worship."
  MASTER: "You are right. Our only duty is to seek the Master of the Garden and speak to Him. The only purpose of life is to realize God."

2.13_-_THE_MASTER_AND_M., #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  It was almost dusk when most of the devotees, including Narendra, took leave of the Master. Sri Ramakrishna went out and looked at the Ganges for a few minutes from the west porch. Two priests were bathing in preparation for the evening worship. Young men of the village were strolling in the Garden or standing on the concrete embankment, gazing at the murmuring river. Others, perhaps more thoughtful, were walking about in the solitude of the Panchavati.
  While the Master was meditating in this fashion on the Divine Mother, a few devotees, coming in from the Garden, gathered in his room. Sri Ramakrishna sat down on the small couch. He said to the devotees: "Narendra, Bhavanath, Rkhl , and devotees like them belong to the group of the nityasiddhas; they are eternally free. Religious practice on their part is superfluous. Look at Narendra. He doesn't care about anyone. One day he was going with me in Captain's carriage. Captain wanted him to take a good seat, but Narendra didn't even look at him. He is independent even of me. He doesn't tell me all he knows, lest I should praise his scholarship before others. He is free from ignorance and delusion. He has no bonds. He is a great soul. He has many good qualities. He is expert in music, both as a singer and player, and is also a versatile scholar. Again, he keeps his passions under control and says that he will never marry.

2.15_-_LAST_VISIT_TO_KESHAB, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  MASTER (to Keshab): "Why do the members of the Brahmo Samaj dwell so much on God's glories? Is there any great need of repeating such things as 'O God, Thou hast created the moon, the sun, and the stars'? Most people are filled with admiration for the Garden only. How few care to see its owner! Who is greater, the Garden or its owner?
  "In order to take full advantage of the dew, the Gardener removes the soil from the Basra rose down to the very root. The plant thrives better on account of the moisture.

2.16_-_WITH_THE_DEVOTEES_AT_DAKSHINESWAR, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  The following morning the Master and M. were talking in the Garden.
  It was night. The moon rose, flooding all the quarters with its silvery light. M. was walking alone in the Garden of the temple. On one side of the path stood the Panchavati, the bakul-grove, the nahabat, and the Master's room, and on the other side flowed the Ganges, reflecting millions of broken moons on its rippling surface.
  M. selected the nahabat because he had a poetic temperament. From there he could see the sky, the Ganges, the moonlight, and the flowers in the Garden.
  Late at night M. sat alone in the nahabat. The sky, the river, the Garden, the steeples of the temples; the trees, and the Panchavati were flooded with moonlight. Deep silence reigned everywhere, broken only by the melodious murmuring of the Ganges. M. was meditating on Sri Ramakrishna.

2.18_-_M._AT_DAKSHINESWAR, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  the Garden, which Ram had recently purchased, was next to Surendra's. Ram adored the Master as an Incarnation of God. He visited Sri Ramakrishna frequently at Dakshineswar. Manilal Mallick was a member of the Brahmo Samaj. The Brahmos do not believe in Divine Incarnations.
  Arriving at the Garden, the Master got out of the carriage and accompanied Ram and the other devotees to the sacred tulsi-grove. Standing near it, he said: "How nice! It is a fine place. You can easily meditate on God here."
  Sri Ramakrishna sat down in the house, which stood to the south of the lake. Ram offered him a plate of fruit and sweets which he enjoyed with the devotees. After a short time he went around the Garden.

2.19_-_THE_MASTER_AND_HIS_INJURED_ARM, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  MASTER: "God alone is real, and all else illusory. the Garden and its owner. God and His splendour. But people look at the Garden only. How few seek out the owner!"

2.20_-_2.29_-_RULES_FOR_HOUSEHOLDERS_AND_MONKS, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  The magician and his magic. All become speechless with wonder at the magic, but it is all unreal. The magician alone is real. The rich man and his garden. People see only the Garden; they should look for its rich owner."
  SRI RAMAKRISHNA arrived in the morning at the Garden house of Surendra, one of his beloved householder disciples, in the village of Kankurgachi near Calcutta. Surendra had invited him and a large number of the devotees to a religious festival.
  The devotees stood in rows inside the big hall of the Garden house to hear the music sung by the professional singers. The floor of the room was covered with a carpet over which was spread a white sheet; a few bolsters, pillows, and cushions lay here and there.
  At this point Pratap bade the Master good-bye. He did not wait to hear the end of Sri Ramakrishna's words about the renunciation of "woman and gold". Those burning words touched the hearts of the devotees and were carried away on the wind through the gently rustling leaves in the Garden.
  MASTER (to Mani Mallick): "Don't hurry me, please. I didn't sleep well. I can't rush. They are going to Dakshineswar. What am I to do about it? They will stroll in the Garden and enjoy it thoroughly."
  All sat in silence. Sri Ramakrishna said to the pundit, "Go and visit the temples and take a stroll in the Garden." It was about half past five in the afternoon. The pundit left the room with his friends and several of the devotees.
  I said to the Divine Mother, 'Mother, shall I too have to pass through such a state?' We all went to see the man. He spoke words of great wisdom to us but behaved like a madman before others. Haladhri followed him a great way when he left the Garden.
  "Before meeting Keshab, I asked Narayan Shastri to visit him and tell me what he thought of him. Narayan reported that Keshab was an adept in japa. He knew astrology and remarked that Keshab had been born under a good star. Then I went to visit Keshab in the Garden house at Belgharia. Hriday was with me. The moment I saw Keshab, I said: 'Of all the people I see here, he alone has dropped his tail. He can now live on land as well as in water, like a frog.'
  It was about five o'clock in the afternoon. Sri Ramakrishna left his room. The devotees were walking in the Garden. Many of them were about to leave.
  After the music was over, the Mukherjis were about to take their leave. The Master, too, was ready to go, but he was in an ecstatic mood. On coming to the porch he went into samdhi. The gate-keeper of the Garden house was a pious man. Now and then he invited the Master to his house and fed him. Sri Ramakrishna stood there in samdhi and the gate-keeper fanned him with a large fan. Ratan, the manager of the Garden house, saluted the Master, and Sri Ramakrishna, returning to the consciousness of the relative world, greeted the manager and the gate-keeper, saying, "Narayana". Then, accompanied by the devotees, he went back to the temple-garden through the main gate.
  The Mukherji brothers left the porch. They went to the Garden for a stroll.
  The Mukherji brothers saluted the Master. Their carriage was ready near the verandah north of the room. The Master stood facing the north. On his left was the Ganges; in front of him were the nahabat, the Garden, and the kuthi; and to his right was the road leading to the gate. The night was dark, and a devotee had brought a lantern to show the visitors their way. One by one the devotees bowed and took the dust of the Master's feet. The carriage seemed too heavily loaded for the horses. The Master said, "Aren't there too many people in the carriage?"
  MASTER (to the devotees): "I shall look upon them as the Blissful Mother Herself. What if one of them acts the part of Chaitanya? An imitation custard-apple reminds one of the real fruit. Once, while going along a road, a devotee of Krishna noticed some babla-trees. Instantly his mind was thrown into ecstasy. He remembered that the wood of babla-trees was used for the handles of the spades that the Garden of the temple of Syamasundar was dug with. The trees instantly reminded him of Krishna. I was once taken to the Maidan in Calcutta to see a balloon go up. There I noticed a young English boy leaning against a tree, with his body bent in three places. It at once brought before me the vision of Krishna and I went into samdhi.

2.30_-_2.39_-_THE_MASTER_IN_VARIOUS_MOODS, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  "More than twenty years ago two young men used to come here from Baranagore. One was named Govinda Pal and the other Gopal Sen. They had been devoted to God since boyhood. The very mention of marriage would frighten them. Gopal used to have bhava samdhi. He would shrink from worldly people, as a mouse from a cat. One day he saw the boys of the Tagore family strolling in the Garden. He shut himself in the kuthi lest he should have to talk with them.
  Do you know what the God of worldly people is like? It is like children's saying to one another while at play, 'I swear by God.' They have learnt the word from the quarrels of their aunts or grandmothers. Or it is like God to a dandy. The dandy, all spick and span, his lips red from chewing betel-leaf, walks in the Garden, cane in hand, and, plucking a flower, exclaims to his friend, 'Ah! What a beautiful flower God has made!' But this feeling of a worldly person is momentary. It lasts as long as a drop of water on a red-hot frying-pan.
  accompanying him. The road through the Garden was covered with red brick-dust. The manager of the temple, who was standing on the road, saluted Sri Ramakrishna. The Master passed the north entrance of the temple compound, where the bearded sentries sat. On his left he passed the kuthi, the building used by the proprietors of the temple.
  When the music was over the gathering of devotees broke up. Some began to stroll in the Garden and some went to the temples to watch the evening service.
  "The one thing you need is to realize God. Why do you bother so much about the world, creation, 'science', and all that? Your business is to eat mangoes. What need have you to know how many hundreds of trees there are in the orchard, how many thousands of branches, and how many millions of leaves? You have come to the Garden to eat mangoes. Go and eat them. Man is born in this world to realize God; it is not good to forget that and divert the mind to other things. You have come to eat mangoes. Eat the mangoes and be happy."
  Sri Ramakrishna left the room and went toward the pine-grove. The devotees began to walk about in the Garden. Several went to the Panchavati. Sri Ramakrishna met them there and said: "I have indigestion. I took a meal at the Mallicks'. They are very worldly people."
  The evening worship had begun in the temples. It was the eighth day of the bright fortnight of the moon; the temple domes, the courtyard, the Gardens, and the trees were shining in the moonlight. The Ganges was flowing north with a murmuring sound.

2.40_-_2.49_-_THE_MASTER_AT_THE_HOUSES_OF_BALARM_AND_GIRISH, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  MASTER: "Yes, yes, my child! Why should you listen to us? 'The words of those who have gold in their ears are valuable; no one listens to him who hasn't even a rag round his waist.' (All laugh.) You frequent the Garden house of the Guhas. I always hear about it. Whenever I ask, 'Where is Narendra today?' I am told, 'Oh, he has gone to the Guhas.' I should not have said all these things, but you have wrung them out of me."
  It was nearly evening. Sri Ramakrishna asked M. and the others to show Dwija's father the temples. He said to them, "I should have accompanied him myself if I were well." He asked someone to give sweets to the young men and said to Dwija's father: "Let the children have a little refreshment. It is customary." Dwija's father visited the temples and the images and took a stroll in the Garden.
  The Punjabi sdhu was going along the footpath in the Garden. The Master said: "I don't attract him. He has the attitude of a Jnni. I find him to be dry as wood."

3.01_-_The_Principles_of_Ritual, #Liber ABA, #Aleister Crowley, #Philosophy
  is negative. It is the potting-out and watering of a particular flower
  in the Garden, and the exposure of it to the sun.
  In the third, identity is attained by sympathy. It is very difficult

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