Quotes About Weeds

What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have not yet been discovered, — every one of the two hundred thousand probably yet to be of utility in the arts. As Bacchus of the vine, Ceres of the wheat, as Arkwright and Whitney were the demi-gods of cotton, so prolific Time will yet bring an inventor to every plant. There is not a property in nature but a mind is born to seek and find it... every application being equivalent to a new material.

A man in words and not in deeds, Is like a Garden full of weeds.

A man of words and not of deeds Is like a garden full of weeds; And when the weeds begin to grow, It's like a garden full of snow...

A man's Nature runs either to herbs or weeds; therefore let him seasonably water the one, and destroy the other.

They don't realize that it takes tax dollars to keep a city afloat and you can't get taxes from weeds and trees. But you can from hotels and other businesses. All my father wanted was a reasonable balance between nature and development and was killed for it.

DEAD FLIES ON THE SILLS OF sunny windows, weeds along the pathway, the kitchen empty. The house was melancholy, deceiving; it was like a cathedral where, amid the serenity, something is false, the saints are made of florist's wax, the organ has been gutted.

The richest soil, if uncultivated, produces the rankest weeds.

Thine to work as well as pray, Clearing thorny wrongs away; Plucking up the weeds of sin, Letting heaven's warm sunshine in.

Goodbye. Goodbye. I can't feel you anymore. The night is almost too beautifully pure for my soul to contain. I walk with my arms spread open under the big fat moon. Heroic weeds rise up from the cracks in the sidewalk, and the colored lights of the Hawaiian Breeze ignite the broken glass in the gutter. Goodbye, I say, goodbye, as I disappear little by little into the middle of the middle of my own spectacular now.

The world's great age begins anew, The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn; Heaven smiles, and faiths and empires gleam, Like wrecks of a dissolving dream.

Let the snake wait under his weed and the writing be of words, slow and quick, sharp to strike, quiet to wait, sleepless.

Our heart is a garden, which the good God has given us to cultivate, and we must always be aware of the weeds that grow without observation. It is necessary that we should unceasingly apply ourselves to the cultivation of the good and the extraction of the evil which might take root.

The Moment opens. The moment closes. There is sunlight. There is frost. There is the brief idea of roses amid the patch of weeds.

Always do that, wild ducks do. Go plunging right to the bottom… as deep as they can get… hold on with their beaks to the weeds and stuff—and all the other mess you find down there. Then they never come up again.

Yeah I missed you since the place got wrecked By the winds of change and the weeds of sex looks like freedom but it feels like death it's something in between, I guess it's closing time.

Even the richest soil, if left uncultivated will produce the rankest weeds.

Crops starting out as weeds included rye and oats, turnips and radishes, beets and leeks, and lettuce.

How can we set up a system which encourages individuals to strive and excel, and yet which shows some compassion to the weak, and weeds out madmen and tyrants?

Do not spread the compost on the weeds.

Small herbs have grace, great weeds to grow apace.

The ragwort steeds are there in front of the apartment complex- starved-looking yellow ponies with lacy manes and emerald eyes, like sea horses on land, weeds come to snorting, snuffling life.

My life is a wasted thing, My garden and fields have long been buried under weeds. What am I to do so late in my years But sing away and let alone the imperial gate of gold?

when I checked the other day, I found it - my strawberry patch - overgrown and hidden under weeds, but still there...like secrets, like memories. You can make yourself believe that they have been erased. But they are there, if you look closely. If you have a wish to uncover them.

Ground elder, introduced by the Romans as a vegetable, is difficult to get rid of because it regrows from the smallest trace of root.