We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb.

Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light, / Sport and repose lock from me day and night, / To desperation turn my trust and hope, / An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope.

Weary of big Sunday dinners that leave you feeling comatose (and result in your having to spend Sunday evening scrubbing the kitchen)?

As a practical gardener, painter and builder of gardenalia such as shell grottoes, she was important in that she used the idea of 'landscape as painting' […]