Weed Quotes by William Shakespeare

“O thou weed, Who art so lovely fair, and smell'st so sweet,”

— William Shakespeare

We bring forth weeds when our quick minds lie still.

— William Shakespeare

Do not spread the compost on the weeds.

— William Shakespeare

Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

— William Shakespeare

Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds.

— William Shakespeare

For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lillies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

— William Shakespeare

The caterpillars of the commonwealth, Which I have sworn to weed and pluck away.

— William Shakespeare

O, my lord, You said that idle weeds are fast in growth: The prince my brother hath outgrown me far.

— William Shakespeare

Now 'tis spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted; Suffer them now and they'll o'ergrow the garden.

— William Shakespeare

The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, Conceives…

— William Shakespeare

There is a willow grows aslant a brook, That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream; There with fantastic garlands did…

— William Shakespeare

“Virtue? A fig! 'Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills…

— William Shakespeare

Through the forest have I gone. But Athenian found I none, On whose eyes I might approve This flower's force in stirring…

— William Shakespeare

Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones; Who, though they cannot answer my distress, Yet in some sort they are better…

— William Shakespeare

Weed your better judgments of all opinion that grows rank in them.

— William Shakespeare

Sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.

— William Shakespeare

Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace.

— William Shakespeare

For youth no less becomes The light and careless livery that it wears, Than settled age his sables, and his weeds Importing…

— William Shakespeare

Confess yourself to heaven, Repent what's past, avoid what is to come, And do not spread the compost on the weeds To…

— William Shakespeare

The summer's flow'r is to the summer sweet, Though to itself it only live and die' But if that flow'r with base…

— William Shakespeare

He was met even now As mad as the vex'd sea; singing aloud; Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds, With bur-docks, hemlock,…

— William Shakespeare