Quotes About Weed

Bitterness is like a weed. Remember how hard it always was to pull out thistles once they root? Remember how deep those roots grow, and how if you just snapped off the end of it, the plant would grow right back? You have to dig down deep inside. Let God search your heart. Let Him show you what's there and help you root out all that bitterness. Then you can pray for forgiveness.

girl rabbits in an' tells the law she been raped. The guys in Weed start a party out to lynch Lennie. So we sit in a irrigation ditch under water all the rest of that day.

Why is the world so elaborate, if it has no purpose? Think of the care that goes into the least little insect and weed around us. You say you love me; then you must love life. Life is a gift, for which we must give something back.

All I want to do is yoga and hike, and smoke weed. It's funny.

I take my metal canister of tea off the shelf. It is my own mixture of dried lavender blossoms and lemon balm, harvested from my garden and hung in the storeroom to dry. Weed helped me hang these stalks, I think. His hands touched these tender leaves, just as they touch me.

Weed, are you familiar with the work of Carl Linnaeus? His Systema Naturae describes a classification system for all growing things." Weed's eyes dart everywhere, probing every corner. "Unless he visited the madhouse, I never met him," he replies.

An over-authoritarian church, paying no attention to experience, solves the problem by paving the garden with concrete. An over-experiential church solves the (real or imagined) problem of concrete (rigid and "judgmental" forms of faith) by letting anything and everything grow unchecked, sometimes labeling concrete as "law" and so celebrating any and every weed as "grace.

Love is no rose. It's a goddam weed that digs its roots in deep, there's no hope of getting it out. - Nina Valance, human novelist married to a telekinetic (circa 1977)

Love is no rose. It's a goddamn weed that digs its roots in so deep, there's no hope of getting it out.

There are some faults so nearly allied to excellence, that we can scarce weed out the vice without eradicating the virtue.

Sitting here on the steps of the Supreme Court smoking weed, under the "Equal Justice Under Law" motto, staring into the stars, I've finally figured out what's wrong with Washington, D.C. It's that all the buildings are more or less the same height and there's absolutely no skyline, save for the Washington Monument touching the night sky like a giant middle finger to the world.