Best 83 quotes in «weed quotes» category

I am feeling high and i’m not wearing heels.

Cannabis sativa and its derivatives are strictly prohibited in Turkey, and the natural correlative of this proscription is that alcohol, far from being frowned upon as it is in other Moslem lands, is freely drunk; being a government monopoly it can be bought at any cigarette counter. This fact is no mere detail; it is of primary social importance, since the psychological effects of the two substances are diametrically opposed to each other. Alcohol blurs the personality by loosening inhibitions. The drinker feels, temporarily at least, a sense of participation. Kif abolishes no inhibitions; on the contrary it reinforces them, pushes the individual further back into the recesses of his own isolated personality, pledging him to contemplation and inaction. It is to be expected that there should be a close relationsip between the culture of a given society and the means used by its members to achieve release and euphoria. For Judaism and Christianity the means has always been alcohol; for Islam it has been hashish. The first is dynamic in its effects, the other static. If a nation wishes, however mistakenly, to Westernize itself, first let it give up hashish. The rest will follow, more or less as a manner of course. Conversely, in a Western country, if a whole segment of the population desires, for reasons of protest (as has happened in the United States), to isolate itself in a radical fashion from the society around it, the quickest and surest way is for it to replace alcohol by cannabis.

If you tend to a flower, it will bloom, no matter how many weeds surround it.

I don’t really do drugs apart from salad sometimes.

I got into magic because I got into alchemy. Which I got into because I was into chemistry, which I was learning about because I wanted to get better with botany, which I had taken up studying in an effort to grow some killer weed

In beautiful gardens you still find ugly weeds.

I'm going to tell you a phenomenal anticlimactic story that will fuck you up. But first I must roll, lick, burn, blow...

I Love LA, It has Beautiful Weather, Beautiful Women and Beautiful Weed; the three W's you need.

I present a full proof method for discovering whether or not your being a writer, a natural wordsmith, is your gift or just your talent. Get high! If it is your gift, you'll know. Better you find this out first then the reading public.

It smelled overwhelmingly of floral air fresheners being used to disguise the scent of marijuana, which works like a charm if you only ask the people smoking the marijuana.

it either makes you smarter or stupid #420

People who smoke would have probably been regarded as fools or insane, if only a percentage of people who smoke smoked.

I've always felt that distant train whistles heard in the dead of night are the universe's way of letting us know the best days are neither ahead nor behind us...they're happening right now, cradled in the palms of our hands. But that doesn't change the fact that the whiskey, weed, and romance eventually runs out and the night will soon turn to day.

Marijuana will give you inspiration to live your life once again

i want to explode in a cloud and be like a lightning striking the earth i want to lift the world and throw it in the other way maybe create a path so much things to say and i will talk about my life now since my birth day well there is not so much to talk about besides a boring life with issues i was talking to the other day and since then i knew its not worth i named it "Ben", like all names here in this country they beggin with ben and all the power comes from "Ben" "Ben" , i mean "bennani", "ben kirane", "ben jalon", "ben chaquron" i can't understand me and you can't understand these things and i hope none of us will because this could make you another you , and you dont want to be another you but i will be another me anytime facing you , me and you we are we who we were and are like straires we are who we are but we are changng and we will still be who we are because changing is not bad no matter how you look deeply into this you will find it like a trap trying to kill you inside you an let your real you go out from that page you created you dont worry it dosent rhime but maybe it does if you look closely weed eternety and happiness from above can i fuck with your mind a little love

I was high and my people were pulling me down.

Marijuana is fuel for a creative mind. Fuck this prohibition.

Oh, my God. A glass of wine, a smile, and that knowing look. Like the clarity, one gets after the initial drag of that ooowee. I KNOW she knows she got a nigga.

Pesticide is meant to deal with pests as passion is to deal with unnecessary loss of interest! Passion kills the ghosts of "I can't".

Some subjects mixed well with weed, but Chemistry wasn’t one of them.

Prison is for rapists, thieves, and murderers. If you lock someone up for smoking a plant that makes them happy, then you're the fucking criminal.

Pretty trippy writing in a fog. I wrote some of the most beautiful shit I had ever written in my life, but you or I will never know what I wrote. I had no typewriter ribbon in my typewriter. Pretty trippy writing in a fog.

Seth's official reason for still smoking weed is that he doesn't want to, quote, go native, meaning end up one more suit on the train. (He in fact does wear a suit to work.) He wants them to, quote, live nicely, in a big house where family can come visit (kids, of course, in the back of his mind), but at the same time he doesn't want to get less crazy. So he'll smoke up before he goes for a run, and he's found a dentist in Danbury who still gives gas.

They are trying to take you back from me now, and they will—but only for a brief, little while—

The only way to truly help most drug addicts and most alcoholics is to—instead of them—change reality.

There was no time to weigh chances. There was no such thing as chances anyway, in the distorted perspective of the weed fumes.

The image is an example of how horror writers view our world. A view that is far from the norm. Their writing always seeking that visceral fear in us all.

Weed is a remedy. A more creative world welcomes you Smoke and feel the little things.

to ask them to legalize pot is something like asking them to put butter on the handcuffs before they place them on you, something else is hurting you - that's why you need pot or whiskey, or whips and rubber suits, or screaming music turned so fucking loud you can't think, or madhouses or mechanical cunts or 162 baseball games in a season. or vietnam or israel or the fear of spiders. your love washing her yellow false teeth in the sink before you screw.

To get rid of a spiritual problem, we need to pull it up by its spiritual root. To pull up roots, we're going to have to be willing to get our hands dirty, to make some sacrifices that provides long-term benefits instead of short-term, refinanced gains. God is willing to help us, to provide the tools we need to weed out those areas where our desire for money is spoiling our fruit of the Spirit.

Weeds spring up where they are not even sown. So it is with love too. Love takes its own time to bloom in a man’s life. It does not work on his schedule. It feels no need to take into account his situation or his means or state of mind, just ‘happens’ when it has found its right time and when the flower of love springs up, it makes sure the man is coerced to alter the course of his life.

Things happen for a reason. I believe that. For instance, I masturbated moments ago and now I’m searching for a reason…beyond the obvious.

TRUST" is like a plant of Roses, you need to take extra care for its nourishment and DOUBTS are like weed, which affects growth of the Plant." -Samar Sudha

When weed whispers, "eat something", into your alcoholic brain, know that you were just saved by a plant.

When I wanted to quit smoking cannabis a few years ago and found that I couldn’t do it under my own steam I went in search of a self-help book to show me the way. Annoyingly all I could find were books on how to cultivate the damn stuff. So to exact my revenge on the world of publishing I decided to one day write that book myself.

When the wind likes a path, the weeds around that path will tremble all day long!

When it happens and it hits hard, we decide certain things, and realize there's truth in all those dark, lonely days" He had an instantaneous look about him, a glimmer and a glint over those eyes, he knew how the world worked, and took pleasure in its wickedness. He would give a dime or two to those sitting on the street, he would tell them things like: "It won't get any better," and "Might as well use this to buy your next fix," and finally "It's better to die high than to live sober," His suit was pressed nicely, with care and respect, like the kind a corpse wears, he'd say that was his way of honoring the dead, of always being ready for the oncoming train, I liked him, he never wore a fake smile and he was always ready to tell a story about how and when "We all wake up alone," he said once, "Oftentimes even when sleeping next to someone, we wake up before them and they are still asleep and suddenly we are awake, and alone." I didn't see him for a few days, a few days later it felt like it'd been weeks, those weeks drifted apart from one another, like leaves on a pond's surface, and became like months. And then I saw him and I asked him where he'd been, he said, "I woke up alone one day, just like any other, and I decided I didn't like it anymore.

You have planted many seeds in the garden of possibilities. Meditation is the art removing the weeds from the garden of possibilities.

You have done something to your brain. You have made it high. If I lay 10 mls of diazepam on you, it will do something else to your brain. You will make it low. Why trust one drug and not the other?

Writing to me is like hitting the herb. No problems, Mon. No worries.

All I want to do is yoga and hike, and smoke weed. It's funny.

I see in many places little barberry bushes just come up densely in the cow-dung, like young apple trees, the berries having been eaten by the cows. Here they find manure and an open space for the first year at least, when they are not choked by grass or weeds. In this way, evidently, many of these clumps of barberries are commenced.

A nation is not to be judged by its weaklings called the wicked, as they are only the weeds which lag behind, but by the good, the noble, and the pure, who indicate the national life current flowing clear and vigorous.

For this is the truth about our soul, he thought, who fish-like inhabits deep seas and plies among obscurities threading her way between the boles of giant weeds, over sun-flickered spaces and on and on into gloom, cold, deep, inscrutable; suddenly she shoots to the surface and sports on the wind-wrinkled waves; that is, has a positive need to brush, scrape, kindle herself, gossiping.

I am to be broken. I am to be derided all my life. I am to be cast up and down among these men and women, with their twitching faces, with their lying tongues, like a cork on a rough sea. Like a ribbon of weed I am flung far every time the door opens.

I experimented with weed, Ecstasy, mushrooms and mescaline for about a year and a half.

If everyone smoked weed, the world would be a better place.

I made a deal with myself that whenever I smoke weed, I have to be doing something productive: writing, recording, cutting a podcast, editing, etc.

A musician must make music, an artist must paint, an poet must write, if he is to be ultimately at peace with himself. What a man can be, he must be. This weed we call self-actualization….It refers to man’s desire for self-fulfillment, namely to the tendency for him to become actually in what he is potentially: to become everything one is capable of becoming.

Folly is like the growth of weeds, always luxurious and spontaneous; wisdom, like flowers, requires cultivation.