Quotes About Butterflies

I only ask to be free, the butterflies are free.

I only ask to be free. The butterflies are free. Mankind will surely not deny to Harold Skimpole what it concedes to the butterflies.

In the line of Emerson and Whitman, Phelps strongly asserts the need for the poet to listen, to feel, to touch, to learn to see. Love is a magician, it is Merlin. It changes the drabness of everyday, unfetters the soul and the imagination, transcends reality. It is an escape from the self... ethereal butterflies alight gently on the very essence of the feeling.

People are like, 'What is your whole obsession with butterflies?' I'm like, 'I'm not obsessed. I like them. Can't anybody like something?'

Its large beautiful flowers naturally attract beautiful Painted Lady butterflies—making such a summertime garden an enchanting place for a young girl. It seemed natural that young alien girls would appreciate flowering butterfly filled gardens just as young human girls do.

sprightly little yellow butterflies flitter their aërial dance in pairs through tireless mud dauber paths and webs sway vacant in the breeze of poor spiders caught unawares

Hundreds of stars in the pretty sky; Hundreds of shells on the shore together; Hundreds of birds that go singing by; Hundreds of bees in the sunny weather. Hundreds of dew-drops to greet the dawn; Hundreds of lambs in the purple clover; Hundreds of butterflies on the lawn; But only one mother the wide world over!

i vomit confusion & butterflies i sweat fear and i bleed dread i fall deaf from society's lies i gag on metallic tastes of pain i run from the reek of regret i save my minutes & lose my hours i dance on the minefield of mind i freeze my worries for later...

We ate away, reminiscing about our victories over the enemies from different streets and villages and competing with each other in casting curses. A few golden butterflies and dragonflies were fluttering around us. The afternoon air was warm and clean, and the town below us seemed like a green harbor full of white sails.

The least thing upset him on the links. He missed short putts because of the uproar of the butterflies in the adjoining meadows.

When you work on a film, it's important to feel that you are starting afresh and doing it for the first time. Also, it's important to have those butterflies in your stomach; you need to wonder how you are going to approach the character and whether you will be able to do justice to the part.

When people say they aren't nervous, I think they are lying about it. If you are human and you love the game, before any competition you still get those same butterflies in the stomach.

Even if you only play a cameo in a film, it becomes a part of you and you get butterflies in your stomach on release day.

The one time I get butterflies at my fights is during the ring walk, and to get to do that with my home crowd is special, emotional.

The more Opening Days the better. It never gets old. It's one of those things where as it comes you embrace it, get ready, you still get those butterflies, which means you care.

The least thing upset him on the links. He missed short putts because of the uproar of the butterflies in the adjoining meadows.

we tensed for the moment of entry, the butterflies swarming in their familiar, nervous dance in our stomachs;

Drei deiner Finger kitzelten mich kurz, mitten am Bauch, dort, wo die Schmetterlinge leben.

When the mushrooms took hold she sensed some of the gods calling to her from inside her own chest and followed their urging outside into the yard and up the sunny slope into the trees. She felt all gooey, gooey with the slobbered love of various gods gathered within, and smiling full-time went about the woods looking to collect butterflies and pet them until they gave milk, or maybe roll in the dirt until she felt China through her skin.

Your smile is my sun. Your kisses give me butterflies. Your hugs make me feel safe. Every minute I'm with you I smile cause you make me happy and for that I love you.

I could smell the curves of the river beyond the dusk and I saw the last light supine and tranquil upon tideflats like pieces of broken mirror, then beyond them lights began in the pale clear air, trembling a little like butterflies hovering a long way off.

Moss covered paths between scarlet peonies, Pale jade mountains fill your rustic windows. I envy you, drunk with flowers, Butterflies swirling in your dreams.

She was whispering into it in some language that sounded like butterflies drowning in honey.

Far from such din, when blessed silence returns, I can listen to the butterflies that flutter inside my head. To hear them, one must be calm and pay close attention, for their wingbeats are barely audible. Loud breathing is enough to drown them out. This is astonishing: my hearing does not improve, yet I hear them better and better. I must have butterfly hearing.