butterflies

You can only chase a butterfly for so long.

Butterflies better understand than you, the meaning of love and sacrifices one must make for their beloved.

Mostly, when Jess didn't want to talk about her ideas in class, Colleen thought that Jess was showing off, making sure that she would be coaxed and pleaded with, but how could Jess have explained in a coherent way that she was scared? Once you let people know anything about what you think, that's it, you're dead. Then they'll be jumping about in your mind, taking things out, holding them up to the light and killing them, yes, killing them, because thoughts are supposed to stay and grow in quiet, dark places, like butterflies in cocoons.

My thoughts are like butterflies. They are beautiful, but they fly away.

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.

This time of year, the purple blooms were busy with life- not just the bees, but butterflies and ladybugs, skippers and emerald-toned beetles, flitting hummingbirds and sapphire dragonflies. The sun-warmed sweet haze of the blossoms filled the air."When I was a kid," said Isabel, "I used to capture butterflies, but I was afraid of the bees. I'm getting over that, though." The bees softly rose and hovered over the flowers, their steady hum oddly soothing. The quiet buzzing was the soundtrack of her girlhood summers. Even now, she could close her eyes and remember her walks with Bubbie, and how they would net a monarch or swallowtail butterfly, studying the creature in a big clear jar before setting it free again. They always set them free.As she watched the activity in the hedge, a memory floated up from the past- Bubbie, gently explaining to Isabel why they needed to open the jar. "No creature should ever be trapped against its will," she used to say. "It will ruin itself, just trying to escape." As a survivor of a concentration camp, Bubbie only ever spoke of the experience in the most oblique of terms.

When I was a girl I would look out my bedroom window at the caterpillars; I envied them so much. No matter what they were before, no matter what happened to them, they could just hide away and turn into these beautiful creatures that could fly away completely untouched.

Dad?" Jesus asked."Yes, son?" God replied."Do we still have any wrapping paper?" Jesus asked."No, we don't. I used it all to make butterflies," God answered."Butterflies?" Jesus asked bewildered."Yes, butterflies," God said."Why?" Jesus now asked."Well, sometimes there is no rain so that means no rainbows. And then sometimes people walk alone or don't look at other people and so that don't see any smiles either. So I cut up the wrapping paper and made butterflies for the people of Earth to see and look at so they would smile.""That's lovely dad, but what about moths?" Jesus asked."They're just small butterflies," God answered.Jesus laughed, "I love butterflies.""I know," God said as he smiled at his son.

Catching creativity is like catching butterflies _ fast-flying, bright-colored sparks darting here and there, it requires quick wits, good eyes and desire to net them. And once you have them, you need to act fast. An idea, like a butterfly doesn__ last long: it is ephemeral. It is here, and now it is gone _ so quick, grab your laptop, your pen and paper, your Dictaphone, your sketch pad, whatever your mode of expression or recording, swoop and catch.

I saw only the reality of his destiny, which he had knownhow to follow with unfaltering footsteps, that life begun in humblesurroundings, rich in generous enthusiasms, in friendship, love, war--inall the exalted elements of romance.

Butterflies are nature__ tragic heroes. They live most of their lives being completely ordinary. And then, one day, the unexpected happens. They burst from their cocoons in a blaze of colors and become utterly extraordinary. It is the shortest phase of their lives, but it holds the greatest importance. It shows us how empowering change can be.

In our day and age, global society has been saturated with the wrong teaching of false positivity. The denial of darkness never equates the abundance of light. And the denial of your actual character never equates to the reality of your best character. People today are afraid to work on themselves and on their actual realities, they believe that outward appearances are enough. Outward appearances have become everything in our current day and age. People don't see what they are actually like, nor who they actually are, in reality. They live in a phantasmic version of reality. It has to stop. In the phantasmic version of reality, there is no chance to experience true love, true goodness, and true metamorphosis. The caterpillar does not become a butterfly by telling everybody it has wings. It actually buries itself in darkness and grows those wings.

We are all butterflies. Earth is our chrysalis.

Don't be afraid. Change is such a beautiful thing", said the Butterfly.

I tell of hearts and souls and dances...Butterflies and second chances;Desperate ones and dreamers bound,Seeking life from barren ground,Who suffer on in earthly fateThe bitter pain of agony hate,Might but they stop and here forgiveWould break the bonds to breathe and liveAnd find that God in goodness bringsA chance for change, the hope of wingsTo rest in Him, and self to dieAnd so become a butterfly.

Butterflies can't see their wings. They can't see how truly beautiful they are, but everyone else can. People are like that as well.

The things this man does to me are beyond what I feel should be possible. Butterflies. Fucking butterflies. Damn him.

love.love isn't having butterflies all the time, i think love is calm. love is comfortable. i could sit in silence with you for the rest of our lives and it would mean more than a thousand words with anyone else.