Tom Hodgkinson Quotes

Once in a golden hour, I cast to earth a seed, And up there grew a flower, That others called a weed.

Our finest flowers are often weeds transplanted.

Nothing is so beautiful as spring- When weeds in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush.

You fight dandelions all weekend, and late Monday afternoon there they are, pert as all get out, in full and gorgeous bloom, pretty as can be, thriving as only dandelions can in the face of adversity.

A flower is an educated weed.

The earth is rocky and full of roots; it's clay, and it seems doomed and polluted, but you dig little holes for the ugly shriveled bulbs, throw in a handful of poppy seeds, and cover it all over, and you know you'll never see it again - it's death and clay and shrivel, and your hands are nicked from the rocks, your nails black with soil.

Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them.

A weed is a plant that has mastered every survival skill except for learning how to grow in rows.

A good garden may have some weeds.

I think this is what hooks one to gardening: it is the closest one can come to being present at creation.

Use plants to bring life.

A weed is but an unloved flower.

I think optimism springs from nature. I'm a gardener. Nature has taught me about rhythm, the essence of every art. With so much that is terrible, nature gives me pleasure.

I'm continually inspired by nature, and the rainbow is one of nature's greatest optical phenomenons. The sighting of a rainbow never fails to bring a smile to people's faces. They signify optimism and positivity: with them comes the sunshine after the rain.

A lot of the flowers I like are weeds. Oh, and dandelions, but they're a weed, too.

I like weeds and hardy plants.

Love won't be tampered with, love won't go away. Push it to one side and it creeps to the other. Throw it in the garbage and it springs up clean. Try to root it out and it only flourishes. Love is a weed, a dandelion that you poison from your heart. The taproots wait. The seeds blow off, ticklish, into a part of the yard you didn't spray. And one day, though you worked, though you prodded out each spiky leaf, you lift your eyes and dozens of fat golden faces bob in the grass.

As dew leaves the cobweb lightly Threaded with stars, Scattering jewels on the fence And the pasture bars; As dawn leaves the dry grass bright And the tangled weeds Bearing a rainbow gem On each of their seeds; So has your love, my lover, Fresh as the dawn, Made me a shining road To travel on, Set every common sight Of tree or stone Delicately alight For me alone.

Where flowers bloom so does hope.

Now seeds are just dimes to the man in the store And the dimes are the things that he needs, And I've been to buy them in seasons before But have thought of them merely as seeds; But it flashed through my mind as I took them this time, "You purchased a miracle here for a dime."

This is a beautiful time of year with spring beginning to burst forth in many parts of the world, bringing all of its colors, scents, and cheerful sounds. The miracle of the changing seasons, with the reawakening and rebirth in nature, inspires feelings of love and reverence within us for God's marvelous, creative handiwork.

Now I know a refuge never grows from a chin in a hand in a thoughtful pose gotta tend the earth if you want a rose.

In the planting of the seeds of most trees, the best gardeners do no more than follow Nature, though they may not know it.