What is one to say about June, the time of perfect young summer, the fulfillment of the promise of the earlier months, and with as yet no sign to remind one that its fresh young beauty will ever fade. — Gertrude Jekyll Copy Share Image
There is always in February some one day, at least, when one smells the yet distant, but surely coming, summer. — Gertrude Jekyll Copy Share Image
It is no use asking me or anyone else how to dig... Better to go and watch a man digging, and then take a… — Gertrude Jekyll Copy Share Image
The lesson I have thoroughly learnt, and wish to pass on to others, is to know the enduring happiness that the love of a… — Gertrude Jekyll Copy Share Image
To plant and maintain a flower border, with a good scheme for colour, is by no means the easy thing that is commonly supposed. — Gertrude Jekyll Copy Share Image
For the best building and planting...the architect and gardener must have some knowledge of each other's business, and each must regard with feelings of… — Gertrude Jekyll Copy Share Image
The possession of a quantity of plants, however good the plants may be themselves and however ample their number, does not make a garden;… — Gertrude Jekyll Copy Share Image
If you take any flower you please and look it over and turn it about and smell it and feel it and try to… — Gertrude Jekyll Copy Share Image
There is a lovable quality about the actual tools. One feels so kindly to the thing that enables the hand to obey the brain.… — Gertrude Jekyll Copy Share Image
A garden is a grand teacher. It teaches patience and careful watchfulness; it teaches industry and thrift; above all it teaches entire trust. — Gertrude Jekyll Copy Share Image
I do not envy the owners of very large gardens. The garden should fit its owner or his or her tastes, just as one's… — Gertrude Jekyll Copy Share Image
The love of gardening is a seed that once sown never dies, but grows to the enduring happiness that the love of gardening gives. — Gertrude Jekyll Copy Share Image
More than half a century has passed, and yet each spring, when I wander into the primrose wood, I see the pale yellow blooms… — Gertrude Jekyll Copy Share Image
