I do some of my best thinking while pulling weeds.
I have found, after a good deal of consideration, that the best place to seek God is in a garden. You can dig for Him here.
Sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.
I think this is what hooks one to gardening: it is the closest one can come to being present at creation.
What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have never been discovered.
My main job was developing talent. I was a gardener providing water and other nourishment to our top 750 people. Of course, I had to pull out some weeds, too.
What a man needs in gardening is a cast-iron back, with a hinge in it.
If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.
In search of my mother's garden, I found my own.
The weeds keep multiplying in our garden, which is our mind ruled by fear. Rip them out and call them by name.
We must cultivate our own garden.
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.
It is a golden maxim to cultivate the garden for the nose, and the eyes will take care of themselves.
The problem with being grounded is it gives you a whole lot of unavoidable time to think. NOt even pulling weeds can take away your ability to plot all the varied and wonderful things you might do to get even, or at least to make up, just get a smidgen for time lost to TV and yard work and house cleaning.
If you had your way you’d pass a law to abolish all the little jobs, the little things. But then you’d leave yourselves nothing to do between the big jobs and you’d have a devil of a time thinking up things to do so you wouldn’t go crazy. Instead of that, why not let nature show you a few things? Cutting grass and pulling weeds can be a way of life, son.
It was hard telling those kids...that I wasn't going to be there this year. And I knew I was going to miss them. I won't have an opportunity to see them again, unless they stop by the house. Now during the summer, I got lots of notes; kids would stop by the house. I'd be pulling weeds or something and they would come up and give me a hug and say, 'Oh, I can't believe it, this is so wonderful!' and just get very excited about it. It was hard not being in school. I would have loved to have gone back to school.
Pulling weeds and planting seeds. That's the story of life. We are individual lots on which either weeds of selfishness or fruit of the Holy Spirit grows and flourishes.
The book forces itself into my mind when I am lugging furniture, or pulling weeds.
or simply: