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In my garden, care stops at the gate and gazes at me wistfully through the bars.

Alexander Smith

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Alexander Smith
Age: 36 †
Born: 1830
Born: December 31
Died: 1867
Died: January 5
Poet
Cille Mheàrnaig
Gazes
Gate
Stops
Gates
Bars
Garden
Care
Wistfully

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I would rather be remembered by a song than by a victory.
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If you wish to preserve your secret, wrap it up in frankness.
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The truly great rest in the knowledge of their own deserts, nor seek the conformation of the world.
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Books are a finer world within the world. (1863)
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The spot of ground on which a man has stood is forever interesting to him.
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Some books are drenchèd sandsOn which a great soul's wealth lies all in heaps,Like a wrecked argosy.
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A man's real possession is his memory. In nothing else is he rich, in nothing else is he poor.
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My garden, with its silence and pulses of fragrance that come and go on the airy undulations, affects me like sweet music. Care stops at the gates, and gazes at me wistfully through the bars.
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To be occasionally quoted is the only fame I care for.
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A bottomless pit of violence, a Tower of Babel where all are speakers and no hearers.
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How deeply seated in the human heart is the liking for gardens and gardening.
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There is no ghost so difficult to lay as the ghost of an injury.
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A man can bear a world's contempt when he has that within which says he's worthy. When he contemns himself, there burns the hell.
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The sun was down, And all the west was paved with sullen fire. I cried, Behold! the barren beach of hell At ebb of tide.
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Yet through all, we know this tangled skein is in the hands of One, Who sees the end from the beginning: He shall unravel all.
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Winter does not work only on a broad scale he is careful in trifles.
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