one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.
Daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty.
Flowers always make people better, happier, and more helpful; they are sunshine, food and medicine for the soul.
Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils.
Never be afraid to be a poppy in a field of daffodils.
life is the greatest gift that could ever be conceived ... A daffodil pushing up through the dark earth to the spring, knowing somehow deep in its roots that spring and light and sunshine will come, has more courage and more knowledge of the value of life than any human being I've met.
You normally have to be bashed about a bit by life to see the point of daffodils, sunsets and uneventful nice days.
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Picasso said that no one has to explain a daffodil. Good design is understandable to virtually everybody. You never have to ask why.
O fateful flower beside the rill- The Daffodil, the daffodil!
I wonder what spendthrift chose to spill Such a bright gold under my windowsill! Is it fair gold? Does it glitter still? Bless me! It's a daffodil!
If you wrap yourself in daffodils I will wrap myself in pain...
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills When all at once I saw a crowd A host of golden daffodils Beside the lake beneath the trees Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
I have seen the Lady April bringing the daffodils, Bringing the springing grass and the soft warm April rain.
It is not raining to me, It's raining daffodils; In every dimpled drop I see Wild flowers on distant hills.
Deprivation is for me what daffodils were for Wordsworth.
Depression is to me as daffodils were to Wordsworth.
Hark, I hear a robin calling! List, the wind is from the south! And the orchard-bloom is falling Sweet as kisses on the mouth. In the dreamy vale of beeches Fair and faint is woven mist, And the river's orient reaches Are the palest amethyst. Every limpid brook is singing Of the lure of April days; Every piney glen is ringing With the maddest roundelays. Come and let us seek together Springtime lore of daffodils, Giving to the golden weather Greeting on the sun-warm hills.
Ten thousand saw I at a glance, tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
Today is the day when bold kites fly, When cumulus clouds roar across the sky. When robins return, when children cheer, When light rain beckons spring to appear. Today is the day when daffodils bloom, Which children pick to fill the room, Today is the day when grasses green, When leaves burst forth for spring to be seen.
Starry Starry night Paint your palette blue and gray Look out on a summer's day With eyes that know the darkness in my soul Shadows on the hills Sketch the trees and the daffodils Catch the breeze and the winter chills In colors on the snowy linen land.
Fair daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon: As yet the early-rising sun Has not attained his noon.
I was in the forest jumping around daffodils while everyone was high on heroin.
Gay as a daffodil.
I never saw daffodils so beautiful. They grew among the mossy stones about and above them; some rested their heads upon these stones, as on a pillow, for weariness.
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