A Quote by Stephen M. Irwin

After Nicholas hung up the phone, he watched his mother carry buckets and garden tools across the couch grass toward a bed that would, come spring, be brightly ablaze as tropical coral with colorful arctotis, impatiens, and petunias. Katherine dug with hard chopping strokes, pulling out wandering jew and oxalis, tossing the uprooted weeds into a black pot beside her. The garden will be beautiful, he thought. But how do the weeds feel about it? Sacrifices must be made.
A beginner must look on himself as one setting out to make a garden for his Lord's pleasure, on most unfruitful soil which abounds in weeds. His Majesty roots up the weeds and will put in good plants instead. Let us reckon that this is already done when the soul decides to practice prayer and has begun to do so.
You cannot take the mild approach to the weeds in your mental garden. You have got to hate weeds enough to kill them. Weeds are not something you handle; weeds are something you devastate.
I don't like weeds! My father made me mow weeds and cut weeds when I was a kid. I've hated weeds ever since I was 12 years old. I'll never go in the weeds! I'll never gonna take you in the weeds.
What a time herbs and weeds, and such things could talk, A man in his garden one day did walk, Spying a nettle green (as th'emeraude) spread in a bed of roses like the ruby red. Between which two colors he thought, but his eye, The green nettle did the red rose beautify. "How be it," he asked the nettle, "what thing Made him so pert? So nigh the Rose to Spring.
Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made By singing 'Oh how wonderful' and sitting in the shade, While better men than we go out, and start their working lives By grubbing weeds from garden paths with broken dinner knives.
Just as a gardener must tend his or her plot, keeping out the weeds, you must tend the garden of your mind, weeding out the thoughts of lack, limitation, and negativity. You must nurture and tend the thoughts of happiness, success, and purpose.
Everyone knows that weeds eat out the life of the garden and of the productive fields. It's like that in the building and developing of character. No one knows our own faults and tendencies better than we do ourselves, so that it is up to each one of us to keep the weeds out, and to keep all growth vigorous and fruitful.
I saw a garden full of flowers which was so beautiful and fragrant. I watched the night sky lying on the grass by a waterfall and it was gorgeous and I would have thought those are the most beautiful things, but then I met you!
The master of the garden is the one who waters it, trims the branches, plants the seeds, and pulls the weeds. If you merely stroll through the garden, you are but an acolyte.
It's disturbing how fast weeds take root in my garden of worthiness. They're so hard to pull. And grow back so easily.
I dug myself a garden, and a stray cat I grew to like would come around to sulk in the corn. I forced myself to seek new love, and for a while, I thought I'd found it with a girl from my office. She was molten in my bed, but she also suffered depressions that were very dear to her. She would often call just to sigh at me for two hours on the phone, wanting me to applaud her depth of feeling. I cut if off, then missed her, wishing that I'd at least had the sense to take her naked photograph.
It's absolutely essential for every generation to capture that social responsibility. Injustice grows like weeds. The injustices of the world are like weeds, and if you do nothing they'll choke your whole garden, man.
I don't have a gardener, because I enjoy pulling weeds. It's hard to explain, but there is something fulfilling about pulling out a weed and knowing that you got all the roots.
I don't have a gardener because I enjoy pulling weeds. It's hard to explain but there is something fulfilling about pulling out a weed and knowing that you got all the roots.
I grew up on a working farm. It was small, a hundred acres, but we had cows and pigs and chickens and sheep and a vegetable garden. I spent hours pulling weeds, hoeing, feeding the horses, cleaning out the stalls. My dad was a tough taskmaster. I always worked, but we also had fun.
The man who accepts the laissez-faire doctrine would allow his garden to grow wild so that roses might fight it out with the weeds and the fittest might survive.
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