WEED
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Call us not weeds; we are flowers of the sea.—E. L. AVELINE, The Mother's Fables
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An ill weed grows apace.—GEORGE CHAPMAN, An Humorous Day's Mirth
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The flowers are loved, the weeds are spurned,
But for them both the suns are burned;
And when, at last, they fail the day,
The long night folds them all away.—J. V. CHENEY, Weeds and Flowers
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What I thought was a flower is only a weed, and is worthless.—LONGFELLOW,
Courtship of Miles Standish
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A weed is no more than a flower in disguise,
Which is seen through at once, if love give a man eyes.—LOWELL, A Fable for Critics
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The richest soil, if uncultivated, produces the rankest weeds.—PLUTARCH, Lives
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He that bites on every weed must needs light on poison.—Proverb
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One ill weed mars a whole mess of pottage.—Proverb
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Nothing teems
But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs,
Losing both beauty and utility.—SHAKESPEARE, Henry V
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Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted;
Suffer them now and they'll o'ergrow the garden.—SHAKESPEARE, Henry Vl
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Burdocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers,
Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow
In our sustaining corn.—SHAKESPEARE, King Lear
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O thou weed,
Who art so lovely fair and smell'st so sweet
That the sense aches at thee, would thou hadst ne'er been born!—SHAKESPEARE, Othello
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Sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.—SHAKESPEARE, Richard III
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Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.—SHAKESPEARE, Sonnet XCIV
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Once in a golden hour
I cast to earth a seed.
Up there came a flower,
The people said, a weed.—TENNYSON, The Flower
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