Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace. — Weeds

"Call us not weeds, we are flowers of the sea."

"The summers flower is to the summer sweet, Though to itself it only live and die, But if that flower with base infection meet, The basest weed outbraves his dignity; For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds."

"The richest soil, if uncultivated, produces the rankest weeds."

"I will go root away The noisome weeds which without profit suck The soils fertility from wholesome flowers."

"To win the secret of a weeds plain heart."

"Still must I on, for I am as a weed, Flung from the rock, on Oceans foam, to sail Whereer the surge may sweep."