Tom: There's no money, there's no weed. It's all been replaced by a pile of corpses.
Lock, Stock and Two Smoking BarrelsLess than the dust beneath thy chariot wheel, less than the weed that grows beside thy door.
Adela Florence NicolsonOnce in a golden hour I cast to earth a seed. Up there came a flower, The people said, a weed.
The Complete Works of Alfred TennysonAn unhappy woman with access to weed killer had to be watched carefully.
Death at the Priory: Love, Sex, and Murder in Victorian EnglandIf one flower has to grow out of all the weeds, let that flower be YOU.
No More Tears: A Physician Turned Patient Inspires Recovery