Friendship is a plant of slow growth and must undergo and withstand the shocks of adversity before it is entitled to the appellation.

— George Washington

What we plant in the soil of contemplation, we shall reap in the harvest of action.

— Meister Eckhart

Treat your relationship as if you are growing the most beautiful sacred flower. Keep watering it, tend to the roots, and always make sure the petals are full of color and are never curling. Once you neglect your plant, it will die, as will your relationship.

— Suzy Kassem

I wouldn't coax the plant if I were you.Such watchful nursing may do it harm.Let the soil rest from so much diggingAnd wait until it's dry before you water it.The leaf's inclined to find its own direction;Give it a chance to seek the sunlight for itself.Much growth is stunted by too careful prodding,Too eager tenderness.The things we love we have to learn to leave alone.

— Naomi Long Madgett

When everybody is planting apples a visionary plants oranges.

— Matshona Dhliwayo

In many ways, theatre is more rewarding for a writer. I used to think it was like painting a wall - that when the play is finished, it's done - but now I realise it's more like gardening; you plant the thing, then you have to constantly tend it. You're part of a thing that's living.

— Lee Hall

People need to eat whole food plant foods, primarily... Whole grains, fruits, vegetables, nuts and seeds. That diet supports our lives. We ought to live to be 90 or 100 without getting any diseases.

— John Mackey

One by one and then together the birds chanted, warbled, whistled, and cooed, like a rare desert plant bursting into life after the rain.

— Mike Bond

Whatever a man sow, shall he reap.

— Lailah Gifty Akita

Through the Mud (from the book Blue Bridge)A line of robots,We approach a wall of mud,Some of us carrying flowers.The others laughBit when we enter that wallIt is the flowersThat will make us an arkTo carry us on through the darkness,Sailing throughWith our symbols the only lightUntil we flyOut over the fieldsOn the other side of midnightAnd all our wires And bits of metal fall off.-And our souls are bright again,So new and lightThey shoot up –Up to plant our brilliant flowersLike starsIn the face of heaven.

— Jay Woodman