The entrance to the conservatory was marked by a sign I wouldn't mind wearing myself at least a few days a week. The greenhouse on the right was filled with potted succulents associated with arid landscapes.
I've always loved these plants, which rightly or wrongly I view as underdogs, able to thrive in withering heat that would quickly destroy most of us. On the other hand, I know from experience that they don't like a lot of humidity, so it's probably not fair to say that they're working hard; as with most plants, they are perfectly adapted to their environment.
Don't even think about stealing a leaf to start your own plant, however.
I'm not sure I understand the use of the word "for" in this sign, but I certainly appreciate the overall message. I kept my distance from the more monstrous plants, where if you look closely between the leaves, you can see the corpses of those who were less cautious.
These guys are crowded but friendly and happy. Don't ever try to fold a napkin like this.
The cactus (I can't bring myself to say "cacti") are aloof and not quite as elegant. The round ones are more cheerful.
Cactus at a rave. Here's a beaded-curtain plant from Namibia. (Note that it's actually called a string of pearls -- the scientific name is Senecio rowleyanus.)
"Don't mess with the succulents." -- the succulents