Weeds Quotes
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There are no weeds, and no worthless men. There are only bad farmers.
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There are not the weeds the ones that drown the good seed, but the negligence of the peasant.
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Dwelling on negative thoughts is like fertilizing weeds.
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The richest soil, if uncultivated, produces the rankest weeds.
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Pick the weeds and keep the flowers.
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Weeds don't need planting in well-drained soil; they don't ask for fertilizer or bits of rag to scare away the birds. They come without invitation; and they don't take the hint when you want them to go. Weeds are nobody's guests: More like squatters.
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...Grandpa's mind had left us, gone wild and wary. When I walked with him I could feel how strange it was. His thoughts swam between us, hidden under rocks, disappearing in weeds, and I was fishing for them, dangling my own words like baits and lures.
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When the palace is magnificent, the fields are filled with weeds, and the granaries are empty.
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Worthless as wither'd weeds.
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In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er, Like coarsest clothes against the cold.
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The way to keep weeds from overwhelming you is to deal with them constantly and in their early stages.
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He who hunts for flowers will finds flowers; and he who loves weeds will find weeds.
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If we don't consciously plant the seeds of what we want in the gardens of our minds we'll end up with weeds.
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Well, when Eleanor Roosevelt's mother dies, she goes to live with her Grandmother Hall. And her Grandmother Hall is in mourning. She's in widow's weeds. She's in her 50s, but appears very old. And she's exhausted from raising rather out-of-control children. Her favorite daughter, Anna, has died (Eleanor's mother), and she has living at home two other sons, Vallie and Eddie. And they are incredible sportsmen, incredible drinkers, out-of-control alcoholics.
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My passion is to multiply all that God has given me and, in the process, give it back. And I would like to incite you to do the same. I do not want you to be the seed that fell along the path or was scattered in rocky places or was choked by weeds.
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The labour of digging and watering, the anxious zeal with which I pounced on weeds, the poring over gardening books, the plans made as I sat on the little seat in the middle gazing admiringly and with the eye of faith on the trim surface so soon to be gemmed with a thousand flowers, the reckless expenditure of pfennings^ the humiliation of my position in regard to Fraulein Wundermacher, all, all had been in vain.
