The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.
The tulip and the butterfly
Appear in gayer coats than I:
Let me be dressed fine as I will,
Flies, worms, and flowers exceed me still.
We lose our souls if we lose the experience of the forest, the butterflies, the song of the birds, if we can't see the stars at night.
We are all butterflies. Earth is our chrysalis.
We kill all the caterpillars, then complain there are no butterflies.
Literature and butterflies are the two sweetest passions known to man.
Happiness is a butterfly, which when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, but which, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.
Don't waste your time chasing butterflies. Mend your garden, and the butterflies will come.
Among the varied species of insects, butterflies are the most poetic.
Nature's message was always there and for us to see. It was written on the wings of butterflies.
Go on, hitch a ride on the back of a butterfly. There's no better way to fly.
Once I read a story about a butterfly in the subway, and today, I saw one. It got on at 42nd, and off at 59th, where, I assume it was going to Bloomingdales to buy a hat that will turn out to be a mistake -- as almost all hats are.
If you have the freedom to fly, why not take the scenic route!
Death is the opening of a more subtle life. In the flower, it sets free the perfume; in the chrysalis, the butterfly; in man, the soul.
The struggle to leave the cocoon is what strengthens the butterfly's wings so she can fly. I am about to become something beautiful.
How wonderful it must be, I thought, to be able to just spread your wings whenever you like without someone following you around trying to swat you out of the sky.
Beauty is where the beheld butterfly
disappears from sight.
Don't be so stuck in a situation or feeling that when the tide turns you can't see the transformation or manifestation. The caterpillar eventually turns into a butterfly. You will need to determine which perspective you will see.
Just like the butterfly, I too will awaken in my own time.
They open their wings, flash patterns and color, fly from flower to flower. I, with the dark brittles and many feet of the former form, inch along the ground.
Sometimes all I want is two armfuls of air, a fistful of sky.
If you have butterflies in your stomach ask them into your heart.
Adding wings to caterpillars does not create butterflies. It creates awkward and dysfunctional caterpillars. Butterflies are created through transformation.
Just when the caterpillar thought I am incapable of moving, it became a butterfly.
God begins to paint the clouds in the eastern sky when the mountains butterflies come flying home.
Oh! To be a butterfly Still, upon a flower, Winking with its painted wings, Happy in the hour.
A caterpillar who seeks to know himself would never become a butterfly.
Butterflies and birds are like one perfect teaspoon of creation.
Butterflies were wind energy made visible.
Nature is always lavish of her gifts even to the most insignificant forms. The butterflies and moths are richly dowered in this respect.
My thoughts are like butterflies. They are beautiful, but they fly away.
Just when the butterfly thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.
Do ye not comprehend that we are worms born to bring forth the angelic butterfly that flieth unto judgment without screen?
When I see a dancing butterfly,
When I see a half blooming flower,
Their eager wish to make this world happy,
My mind dances with joy,
My soul emerges in happiness.
A butterfly is a flying flower with dancing heart.
If the butterfly wings its way to the sweet light that attracts it, it's only because it doesn't know that the fire can consume it.
Do you remember how you felt at seventeen? I do and I don't ... Imagine you came from outer space and someone showed you a butterfly and a caterpillar. Would you ever put the two of them together? That's me and my memories.
I've always loved butterflies, because they remind us that it's never too late to transform ourselves.
Everyone is like a butterfly, they start out ugly and awkward and then morph into beautiful graceful butterflies that everyone loves.
They seemed to come suddenly upon happiness as if they had surprised a butterfly in the winter woods.
Butterflies are but flowers that blew away one sunny day when Nature was feeling at her most inventive and fertile.
We are closer to the ants than to the butterflies. Very few people can endure much leisure.
The butterfly does not look back upon its caterpillar self, either fondly or wistfully; it simply flies on.
The sun's sweet ray is hovering discovered.
You can only chase a butterfly for so long.
Her sanity was a fragile thing, a butterfly cupped in her hands, that she carried with her everywhere, afraid of what would happen if she let it go-or got careless and crushed it.
Without adversity, the butterfly would never have the strength to achieve its destiny. It would never develop the strength to become something extraordinary.
As with the butterfly, adversity is necessary to build character in people.
This magnificent butterfly finds a little heap of dirt and sits still on it; but man will never on his heap of mud keep still.
Butterflies better understand than you, the meaning of love and sacrifices one must make for their beloved.
A season of loneliness and isolation is when the caterpillar gets its wings. Remember that next time you feel alone.
The uglier the caterpillar the lovelier the butterfly.
You put butterflies back into my soul and painted their wings with passion and poetry.
Happiness is like a butterfly.
Happiness is like a butterfly -- the more you chase, the more subtle, but if you stop moving and quietly wait for it to land on you.
Read like a butterfly, write like a bee.
Men pass in front of our eyes like butterflies, creatures of a brief season. We love them; they are brave, proud, beautiful, and clever.
Stothard learned the art of combining colors by closely studying butterflies wings; he would often say that no one knew what he owed to these tiny insects. A burnt stick and a barn door served Wilkie in lieu of pencil and canvas.
Never touch a butterfly's wing with your finger.
I watch her with loving sadness as she dulls her shine to please others. Will this butterfly ever soar? Will she continue to pretend she can't fly? Her greatest life awaits this decision.
When a small child, I thought that success spelled happiness. I was wrong, happiness is like a butterfly which appears and delights us for one brief moment, but soon flits away.
The only authority I respect is the one that causes butterflies to fly south in fall and north in springtime.
I learned about the sacred art of self decoration with the monarch butterflies perched atop my head, lightning bugs as my night jewelry, and emerald-green frogs as bracelets.
Music is quicksilver, gossamer; careers are measured in butterfly lifetimes.
I'd be a butterfly; living a rover, Dying when fair things are fading away.
Not quite birds, as they were not quite flowers, mysterious and fascinating as are all indeterminate creatures.
Just as the bird sings or the butterfly soars, because it is his natural characteristic, so the artist works.
Time can play all sorts of tricks on you. In the blink of an eye, babies appear in carriages, coffins disappear into the ground, wars are won and lost, and children transform, like butterflies, into adults.
Children are caterpillars and adults are butterflies. No butterfly ever remembers what it felt like being a caterpillar.
She was like a butterfly, full of color and vibrancy when she chose to open her wings, yet hardly visible when she closed them.
A withered maple leaf has left its branch and is falling to the ground; its movements resemble those of a butterfly in flight. Isn't it strange? The saddest and deadest of things is yet so like the gayest and most vital of creatures?
But on paper, things can live forever.
On paper, a butterfly
The sound of a million butterflies flapping their wings is indescribable. It's very heavenly.
Metamorphosis has always been the greatest symbol of change for poets and artists. Imagine that you could be a caterpillar one moment and a butterfly the next.
Everybody knows what a caterpillar is, and it doesn't look anything like a butterfly.
It was a completely new feeling for me -- like someone had just released a million, tiny butterflies loose in my stomach, and they were feverishly flying up into my head and making me lose my mind.
Of all the butterflies that chose to stay,
I'm in love with the one that got away.
Is it sin, which makes the worm a chrysalis, and the chrysalis a butterfly, and the butterfly dust?
When, within our souls and psyches we are made aware of a safe but insistent drum beat, repeated like butterfly wings in motion, we sense the message...that our inner self has begun its search for freedom.
A pinned butterfly holds no delight. A pinned butterfly is nothing like a butterfly at all.
And the case of butterflies so rich it looks As if all summer settled there and died.
If there is one creature that represents my essence, it's butterflies.
There is nothing in a caterpillar that tells you it's going to be a butterfly.
What's a butterfly garden without butterflies?
The butterfly, a cabbage-white, (His honest idiocy of flight) Will never now, it is too late, Master the art of flying straight.
Life is like a butterfly. You can chase, or you can let it come to you.
And when I was angry, when I was younger, I was in a cocoon. Now I'm a beautiful, black butterfly.
Pleasure's a Moth, that sleeps by day And dances by false glare at night; But Joy's a Butterfly, that loves To spread its wings in Nature's light.
Realize what you really want. It stops you from chasing butterflies and puts you to work digging gold.
I embrace emerging experience.
I participate in discovery.
I am a butterfly.
I am not a butterfly collector.
I want the experience of the butterfly.
Love is like a butterfly--chase it and it will fly away. Be still and be you and it will come and rest upon your skin where it feels safe and welcome.
In a dream I saw myself as a great and colorful butterfly; now I am not sure if I am Chuang-Tsu dreaming I was a butterfly, or I am a butterfly dreaming I am Chuang-Tsu.
I mean, everything that is upon this earth, even from a worm or a caterpillar that blossoms into a butterfly, you know, these things are just amazing.
I've always preferred moths to butterflies. They aren't flashy or cocky; they mind their own business and just try to blend in with their surroundings and live their lives. They don't want to be seen, and that's something I can relate to.
The butterflies have flown away, like my ignorance and youth.
The paired butterflies are already yellow with August Over the grass in the West garden; They hurt me. I grow older.
If nothing ever changed, there would be no such things as butterflies.
And when all the wars are over, a butterfly will still be beautiful.
Art is like a butterfly fluttering in a meadow. Analysis of art is like a butterfly on a pin. Each has its value, but we must always be aware of the difference, and what is gained or lost.
Take time to be a butterfly.
To her, it was like asking a butterfly what it remembered about being a caterpillar. She could fly now and nothing could touch her when she left the cocoon of her body behind at night.
And just when the darkness
became too much to bear
and the struggle too hard,
the light broke through
and the caterpillar emerged
delicate but unbroken,
wild and gentle,
finally free to spread its lovely wings
and fly away on the wind.
Sometimes a caterpillar will wait too long and die in its cocoon before ever becoming a buterfly.
I am free to be me!
The caterpillar loved her time surrounded by the comfort of her cocoon ...then one day she had a thought maybe it was time for a new adventure!
Whenever we leave the ground
And take to the sky
I'll smile as I'm gazing down
Cause I've always wonder why we won't need feathers to fly.
Just living isn't enough, said the butterfly, one must have sunshine, freedom and a little flower.
Butterflies are but petals upon the sky.
It is all too common for caterpillars to become butterflies and then to maintain that in their youth they had been little butterflies. Maturation makes liars of us all.
Happiness is a butterfly that often eludes your grasp, then suddenly alights on your shoulder, sits for a spell and moves on.
I felt him move and turned my head to deflect his kiss so that it landed on the side of my jaw instead of my mouth. It shimmered there briefly like some iridescent, impossible butterfly.
Catching butterflies won't give you a taste of freedom but the knowledge that weights are not carried in wings.
When a caterpillar bursts from its cocoon and discovers it has wings, it does not sit idly, hoping to one day turn back. It flies.
Failure is like a caterpillar before it becomes a butterfly.
Nor did we know if the tight, dark days of hanging upside down was the onset of death or a necessary part of an incredible transformation.
The chrysalis moves
in my solar plexus
fulfilling its mission
to quietly emerge...
then I see you and
a thousand butterflies
migrate into my heart.
When he laughed in his throat, the butterfly laughed at me too. It's obscene fluttering corrupted me into darkness.
He said that we belonged together because he was born with a flower and I was born with a butterfly and that flowers and butterflies need each other for survival.
I am a butterfly drunk with life. I don't know where to soar, but I won't allow life to clip my beautiful wings.
For when ideas flutter in haze, we collaborate without notice and collect them as butterflies only to set them free into the world.
Gray sail against the sky, Gray butterfly! Have you a dream for going. Or are you the blind wind's blowing?
Why is a caterpillar wrapped in silk while it changes into a butterfly? So the other caterpillars can't hear the screams. Change hurts.
A butterfly is like the soul of a person, it dries out in captivity.
Caterpillar dun' become butterfly-caterpillar die so butterfly can be. A new thing. We all must let ourselves die to be what we will be. But we cling to what we know.
Beautiful thoughts flit across the brain, like butterflies in the sun's rays, and are as difficult to capture.
Like butterflies, we evolve; but as Beings of Light we continuously evolve when we are fully present.
Sometimes a butterfly flaps its wings and the weather turns out fine.
We can learn a lesson from the butterfly beginning it's life crawling along the ground, then spinning a cocoon, patiently waiting until the day it will fly.
And to me also, who appreciate life, the butterflies, and soap-bubbles, and whatever is like them amongst us, seem most to enjoy happiness.
Now I'm floating like a butterfly
Stinging like a bee I earned my stripes
I went from zero, to my own hero.
The beginning of love is all about the butterflies, but the end of it is when you can't get out of bed in the morning.
I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd but three summer days -- three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.
If time and space, as sages say, Are things which cannot be, The sun which does not feel decay No greater is than we. So why, Love, should we ever pray To live a century? The butterfly that lives a day Has lived eternity.
And whether this happiness lasted a hundred seconds or ten minutes, it was so far removed from time that it resembled every other genuine happiness as completely as one fluttering blue lycaenid butterfly resembles another.
Do what only a true artist can do ... pounce upon the forgotten butterfly of revelation.
Success is not something you pursue. What you pursue will elude you; it can be like trying to chase butterflies. Success is something you attract by the person you become.
Bees sip honey from flowers and hum their thanks when they leave. The gaudy butterfly is sure that the flowers owe thanks to him.
Butterflies... flowers that fly and all but sing.
When I ran, I felt like a butterfly that was free.
Life is short. If you doubt me, ask a butterfly. Their average life span is a mere five to fourteen days.
We are like butterflies who flutter for a day and think it is forever.
I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man.
I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?
The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls the butterfly.
Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.