"Gardens always mean something else, man absolutely uses one thing to say another. Vegetation in gardens is symbolic, hence one can write about them without using the names of plants, and people sometimes do without plants entirely in sculpture courts and sand gardens. But the trees in gardens are already statues and the grass a counterpane. Here the outside is arranged to suit the inside, in mocking imitation, in imaginary threat, in soothing reminiscence, as it leads the soul through all the old situations, portraying comforts and dangers enlarged or diminished in neutral unhuman green. Trees, bushes, and slopes show us closeness, separation, dependence, arrest, depression, exultation, until rarely even in dreams can a person get such a sense of traversing years in a jump, surmounting obstacles with a few sloping steps, looking back on the past with a turn of the head. In gardens, everyone is free to go where he pleases, to follow a number of avenues, to make contradictory choices" (Harbison, pg. #20).