Best 83 quotes in «weed quotes» category

Marijuana will give you inspiration to live your life once again

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

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.

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.

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

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".

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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

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

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.

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?

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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

I have used cannabis all over the world.

It was difficult to enjoy the trees and flowers when I was so aware of all that I had not yet done - pruning, weeding, transplanting, mulching, composting, tagging. When I was doing the work myself, I was happy, free.

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.

I work very hard on the writing, writing and rewriting and trying to weed out the lumber.

Never take ecstasy, beer, baccardi, weed, pepto bismol, vivarin, tums, tagamet hb, xanax, and valium in the same day. It makes it difficult to sleep at night.

Removing the weeds, putting fresh soil about the bean stems, and encouraging this weed which I had sown, making the yellow soil express its summer thought in bean leaves and blossoms rather than in wormwood and piper and millet grass, making the earth say beans instead of grass, - this was my daily work.

I was a vegetarian when we shot the first film(Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle), and I generally eat organic as much as possible. I know this is so disappointing to the audience, which is why I don't talk about it a lot, but I don't smoke weed, I don't eat fast food.

One chronicler writes of an area of India during the end of the 20th century: Almost no-one in this slum was poor by Indian benchmarks. ... True, a few residents trapped rats and frogs and fried them for dinner. A few ate the scrub grass at the sewage lake edge. And these individuals, miserable souls, thereby made an inestimable contribution to their neighbors. They gave those slum dwellers who didn't fry rats and eat weeds a sense of their upward mobility.

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.

There are 100,000 total marijuana smokers in the US, and most are Negroes, Hispanics, Filipinos and entertainers. Their Satanic music, jazz and swing, result from marijuana usage. This marijuana causes white women to seek sexual relations with Negroes, entertainers and any others.

Thine to work as well as pray, Clearing thorny wrongs away; Plucking up the weeds of sin, Letting heaven's warm sunshine in.

Straw mulch, a ground cover of white clover interplanted with the crops, and temporary flooding all provide effective weed control in my fields.

'Tis liberty alone that gives the flower Of fleeting life its lustre and perfume; And we are weeds without it.

When I weed, I like to get off into my own head. For one thing, my wife plants and I have trouble telling which plants are weeds and which are my favorite plants. So I tend to hop around and grab the weeds that I know are weeds. So I don't weed all that linearly. I tend to weed haphazardly.

What's to keep somebody from getting all potted up on weed and then getting behind the wheel?

They whom truth and wisdom lead, can gather honey from a weed.