by Stewart Zayn
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A daisy blooming in a desert is worth more than a rose blossoming in a rainforest.
Human beings are born solitary, but everywhere they are in chains – daisy chains – of interactivity. Social actions are makeshift forms, often courageous, sometimes ridicilous, always strange.
Daisies are like sunshine to the ground.
Do you ever wait for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always wait for the longest day of the year and then miss it!
Stars are the daisies the begem the blue fields of the sky.
The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness.
In a world full of daisies dare to be a rose.
Where innocent bright-eyes daisies are With blades of grass between, Each daisy stands up like a star Out of a sky of green.
The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, Protects the lingering dewdrop from the sun.
Daisies that bring you joy are better than roses that bring you sorrow.
She saw something awful in the very simplicity she failed to understand.
Those fields of daisies we landed on, and dusty fields and desert stretches. Memories of many skies and earths beneath us – many days, many nights of stars.
Daisies infinite Uplift in praise their little growing hands, O’er every hill that under heaven expands.
Always have something beautiful in sight, even if it’s just a daisy in a jelly glass.
Be careful of words, they can be both daisies and bruises.
Is that how you play?” Daisy asked breezily. “I just envision how I want the bowl to go, and then I roll it.
You have to decide if you’re going to wilt like a daisy or if you’re just going to go forward and live the life that you’ve been granted.
Never a daisy that grows, but a mystery guideth the growing; Never a river that flows, but a majesty scepters the flowing.
Tread lightly, she is near under snow, speak gently, she can hear the daisies grow.
Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint, And sweet thyme true, Primrose, first born child of Ver, Merry Spring-time’s harbinger.
Even thou who mournst the daisy’s fate, That fate is thine–no distant date; Stern Ruin’s ploughshare drives, elate, Full on thy bloom, Till crushed beneath the furrow’s weight Shall be thy doom!
You can’t be sad when Daisy is around, she won’t let you.
Daisy had no idea how to put herself to rights again. But she thought it would be a good thing to stop thinking about herself and do something for someone else.
The brief silence that follows is as tender as a rainstorm of daisies.
Behold the azure sea in front of you, the turquoise sky above you, the amber mountain beneath your feet, and the golden daisy in your hands. How are you not the richest person on earth?
I really believe this. Souls have a purpose and their energy belongs with a certain other energy. They go where they belong. It’s not random…
Their desire was silent yet magnificent, like a thousand daisies attuning their faces toward the path of the sun.
The love of God toward you is like the Amazon River flowing down to water a single daisy.