Just living isn't enough, said the butterfly, one must have sunshine, freedom and a little flower.
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.
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.
Open your heart and mind like the wings of a butterfly. See then how high you can fly.
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.
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.
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.
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?
Literature and butterflies are the two sweetest passions known to 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.
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.
