“For now she need not think of anybody. She could be herself, by herself. And that was what now she often felt the need of - to think; well not even to think. To be silent; to be alone.”

Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse

“How right it is to love flowers and the greenery of pines and ivy and hawthorn hedges; they have been with us from the very beginning.”

— Vincent van Gogh, The Letters of Vincent van Gogh