A good garden may have some weeds.
For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lillies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
There are not the weeds the ones that drown the good seed, but the negligence of the peasant.
Like paths and alleys overgrown with hardy, rank-growing weeds, the words we use are overgrown with our individual, private, provincial associations, which tend to choke the meaning.
but as he plodded along a vague and almost hallucinatory pall hazed over his mind; he found himself at one point, with no notion of how it could be, a step from an almost certain fatal cliffside fall—falling humiliatingly and helplessly, he thought; on and on, with no one even to witness it. Here there existed no one to record his or anyone else's degradation, and any courage or pride which might manifest itself here at the end would go unmarked: the dead stones, the dust-stricken weeds dry and dying, perceived nothing, recollected nothing, about him or themselves.
We bring forth weeds when our quick minds lie still.
Plow through the weeds. Go to the auditions and go to the meetings and be on time. Stop looking to the left or the right. Keep your head down and keep moving.
The great thing about Weeds is that everything we do is never quite serious enough to be taken seriously. It always has humor behind it, and it think it makes it definitely more fun for the audience.
There's a man who's been out sailing In a decade full of dreams And he takes her to a schooner And he treats her like a queen Bearing beads from California With their amber stones and green He has called her from the harbor He has kissed her with his freedom He has heard her off to starboard In the breaking and the breathing Of the water weeds While she was busy being free
The whole educational and professional training system is a very elaborate filter, which just weeds out people who are too independent, and who think for themselves, and who don't know how to be submissive, and so on -- because they're dysfunctional to the institutions.
Without hard work, nothing grows but weeds.
Unfortunately, in the very act of weeding, you make it possible for new weeds to grow.
Here is The Boy with the Thorn in His Side, dying in your world. A man made monster with every human emotion, overdosed on worthlessness in a world that could never wrap it’s head around him (so don’t even try). When it’s all over just remember every single word you ever said was always just a bullet to his head. Bury him underground between friends and love - the only things that are gonna make it to the end with him. Look for his body buried beneath where the yellow weeds are growing and know he’s still living in his nightmares.
Life, it is not simple like a garden, where flowers are always flowers and weeds are always weeds.
Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones; Who, though they cannot answer my distress, Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes, For that they will not intercept my tale: When I do weep, they humbly at my feet Receive my tears and seem to weep with me; And, were they but attired in grave weeds, Rome could afford no tribune like to these.
Do not allow negative thoughts to enter your mind for they are the weeds that strange confidence.
Weeds do become resistant to herbicides, and it needs to be managed with multiple herbicides.
The seeds of Death are sown in us when we begin to live, and grow up till, like rampant weeds, they choak the tender flower of life.
Don't let weeds grow around your dreams.
Everybody's got plants, but most are just growing weeds. The cultivated have greater gardens, finer and gaudier gardens.