Quotes About Moth

hovering in the air like a drunken moth.

A receipt blown crazily across the parking lot, was, perhaps, a moth.

The dead are orphans. No company but the silence like a moth's wing.

Thus, when the universal sun has set, does the moth seek the lamp-light of privacy.

The Sky A Silver the sky a silver dissonance by the correct fingers of April resolved into a clutter of trite jewels now like a moth with stumbling wings flutters and flops along the grass collides with trees and houses and finally, butts into the river

I went to heaven, - 'Twas a small town, Lit with a ruby, Lathed with down. Stiller than the fields At the full dew, Beautiful as pictures No man drew. People like the moth, Of mechlin, frames, Duties of gossamer, And eider names. Almost contented I could be 'Mong such unique Society.

An invasive European moth was to blame for a series of mysterious rashes among schoolchildren in northern Pennsylvania. In the spring of 1981, roughly a third of the children at two schools in Luzerne County suffered from rashes on their arms, necks, and legs.

the last electric titillation died on the lips, like a dying moth that quivers, quivers, ever more feebly, ever more faintly, and at last is quite still. But for Lenina the moth did not completely die. Even after the lights had gone up, while they were shuffling slowly along with the crowd towards the lifts, its ghost still fluttered against her lips, still traced fine shuddering roads of anxiety and pleasure across her skin.

There was a moth in there, and it still had its wings crumpled up, and it was just starting to pump its wings up. Life continues in lots of places, and life is a magical thing.

Life is a frail moth flying Caught in the web of the years that pass.

He felt all at once like an ineffectual moth, fluttering at the windowpane of reality, dimly seeing it from outside.

And with the clumsy tools of jealousy and desire, he was trying to create the spell that is ethereal and delicate as the dust on a moth's wing

Unspeakable King of the roads that are gone — Unintelligible Horse riding out of the graveyard — Sunset spread over Cordillera and insect — Gnarl Moth — Griever — Laugh with no mouth, Heart that never had flesh to die — Promise that was not made — Reliever, whose blood burns in a million animals wounded — O Mercy, Destroyer of the World, O Mercy, Creator of Breasted Illusions, O Mercy, cacophonous warmouthed doveling, Come

her heart fluttered like a moth at a porch light.

The moth's enormous wings are velveted in a rich, warm, brown, and edged in bands of blue and pink delicate as a watercolour wash. A startling 'eyespot,' immense, and deep blue melding to an almost translucent yellow, luxuriates in the centre of each hind wing. The effect is one of a masculine splendour foreign to the butterflies, a fragility unfurled to strength

Into the mercy seat I climb My head is shaved, my head is wired And like a moth that tries To enter the bright eye I go shuffling out of life Just to hide in death awhile And anyway I never lied.

the heart which haunts the treasure-house where the moth and rust corrupt, will be exposed to the same ravages as the treasure, will itself be rusted and moth-eaten.

Small Moth... She's slicing ripe white peaches into the Tony the Tiger bowl and dropping slivers for the dog poised vibrating by her foot to stop their fall when she spots it, camouflaged, a glimmer and then full on- happiness, plashing blunt soft wings inside her as if it wants to escape again.

On Rahel's heart Pappachi's moth snapped open its somber wings. Out. In. And lifted its legs. Up. Down.

The moth on Rahel's heart lifted a downy leg. Then put it back. Its little leg was cold. A little less her mother loved her.

Her body was wrapped in shadows like moth wings, like rose-petals.

It's one of those weird truths you learn early on as police that quite a high percentage of the public have all the survival instinct of a moth in a candle factory. They run the wrong way, they refuse to move, some will run toward the danger, and others will instantly whip out their phones and take footage.

It's one of those weird truths you learn early on as police that quite a high percentage of the public have all the survival instinct of a moth in a candle factory.

The atoms become like a moth, seeking out the region of higher laser intensity.