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Quote by Michael Bassey Johnson

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Stamerenophobia

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Michael Bassey Johnson

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“They were part of a forest, an ecosystem that is perfect because of its wide variety of species, dominant because nothing is not allowed to be there. In the forest, everything that is inclined to thrive really does, and has a job, and some jobs are to grow things up and some jobs are to take things apart and everything is accepted because there is no notion—among bacteria and moss and busy mice—there is no notion of who deserves to do something or be in a place. There are only lives to be lived, and they are everywhere.”

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Book:Little Weirds
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“How about you tell me which plants are which, and we'll... organize them. So that they all have the chance to thrive. We can designate areas for different kinds of plants and transplant the rest outside the fence. Like at the library." She walked toward the east side of the garden. "Here's the Nonfiction section. Vegetables only here." "New Studies and Treaties," Caz said, designating an area at the front of the Nonfiction section. "Your seeds can go here. And in the back, Histories--- that's the old growth." "In the front of the cottage, Fiction. That'll be all the flowers." "What about the berries?" "Journals of Scientific Papers," she decided, because of the way the brambles both supported and strangled one another. "Along the far fence.”

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Book:The Spellshop
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“the old house, in the lee of the hills, surrounded by relics of the old powder mill. the ancient stones silent, the water wheels still, but yet there is life in the ruins of the mill. the birds and the sheep find shelter to sleep the fisherman fish in the river so deep. the flowers of the forest carpet the glades. and the frogs they are leaping down in the lades. laughter bygone forever is still yet the echoes still linger here in the mill. voices come whispering from the century that was and dash is just resting under the moss. on nights of bright moon flooding over the hill I sense the life breathing here, in the mill. and here in the house time beats gently past as it has done before and will to the last.”

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Book:Green Are My Mountains
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“She'd never imagined any of this--- this island, the greenhouses, the purpose she'd found in translating the late sorcerer's spells, the new community they were building, the plants and the dragons, the winged cat, and Yarrow. All of it. She hadn't even known this life was out there to dream about. Now, though, it was the life she wanted. "I'm home," Terlu told him. Drawing her closer, he kissed her, and she kissed him back. Above them, the snow fell gently on the greenhouse, while inside and all around them, the flowers bloomed.”

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Book:The Enchanted Greenhouse
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“She was pleasantly surprised at how much remained. Her parents had abandoned a heap of old Caltreyan clothes. Selecting one of the island dresses, Kiela shook it out. Dust plumed in the air. The skirt was a quilt of blue--- sky blue, sapphire blue, sea blue--- all stitched together with silvery thread and hemmed with silver ribbon, and the bodice was a soft white blouse. Not at all a city style, but it was perfect for a picnic in a garden or a stroll on a shore. With a few repairs, she could wear a lot of her mother's abandoned clothes, and she could use her father's for... She wasn't sure what, but they were nice to have. She'd find a use for them. If nothing else, she could chop the fabric up into cleaning rags. Or perhaps learn to quilt? There was a moth-eaten blanket in one closet, in addition to the old quilts on the daybed and her parents' bed. Each quilt had its own pattern--- one was comprised of colors of the sunset and sewn in strips like rays of light, while another was the brown and pale green of a spring garden with pieces cut like petals and sewn like abstract flowers. We left so many beautiful things behind. She'd had no idea. She'd been too little to help much with the packing, though she remembered she'd tried. Carrying an armful of clothes into the kitchen, Kiela dumped them into the sink to soak in water. She planned to use the excess line from the boat to hang them out in the sun to dry. They'll be even more beautiful once they're clean. The kitchen cabinet produced more treasures: a few plates, bowls, and cups. Each bowl was painted with pictures of strawberries and raspberries, and the plates were painted with tomatoes and asparagus. The teacups bore delicate pictures of flowers.”

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Book:The Spellshop
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“A breeze whisked across the garden, and the leaves shimmered in the sunlight as they fluttered. She inhaled the heavy scent of green, growing things--- she could smell a hint of honey within the breeze, and she didn't know which flowers it came from. Prickly bushes with pale flowers filled one corner, and shoots with balls of purple flowers towered over another. She breathed in again and thought the nobles in Alyssium would have paid fistfuls of money to smell as light and lovely as the air on Caltrey. Just breathing it in made her feel like she was waking up after a night of perfect, deep sleep. She'd never felt quite so aware of the taste and feel of the air, or of the sounds of the birds and the gentle rustle of leaves. It made her feel like she could tackle any challenge--- if only she knew exactly how.”

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Book:The Spellshop
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“It's going to be fun," Terlu said. He snorted, but then he smiled and held out the half-finished icing rose. "Taste?" "You're supposed to be making them for the feast. I can't---" He popped it in her mouth. It melted and flavor burst from it. She'd expected pure sugar, but what she tasted was strawberries and vanilla--- it was a bite of spring. "Oh! How did you do that?" "Each color rose is going to have a different flavor." "You're brilliant." He blushed. "I'm glad you like it. I'm going to put them all over the sugar glass, to symbolize the cracks that the plants healed." "Sounds beautiful.”

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Book:The Enchanted Greenhouse
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“The evening was remarkably fine for early spring. Thistlemarsh Hall lay against the lawn like a forlorn jewelry box, framed in unruly embroidered green velvet. Mouse’s father had designed the gardens as an intricate pattern of interweaving vines to complement the Elizabethan splendor of the architecture. The Hall’s towers sprang from each corner, carved with flowers and thistles. The mass of windows along each side meant that the sun could shine through the house at certainties of day, illuminating the inside.”

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Book:Thistlemarsh
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“What is all this?” Auntie Zee cried. She was at the stove, an apron wrapped around her waist, stirring a pot of golden syrup that smelled like honey and lavender. Smiling broadly, Rin trotted across the kitchen and kissed her on the cheek. “Happy reopening day, Auntie Zee,” he wished her. He then deposited his baskets of sugar-covered pastries on the butcher block island. The other vendors repeated the greeting, each kissing her on the cheek and delivering baskets of ruby and golden fruit, fat berries, fresh-baked breads, honeyed pastries, packets of spiced meat, and jars of pearly beverages. Soon the parcels, jars, baskets, and crates were piled as high as the rafters, and the sweet and savory smells were thick in the air. Inhaling, Calisa thought it was like being inside the most delicious café in the world. In many worlds, she corrected herself.”

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Book:The Faraway Inn
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