Sometimes a butterfly flaps its wings and the weather…

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…

— Taylor Swift

The air is like a butterfly With frail blue wings. The happy earth looks at the sky And sings.

— Joyce Kilmer

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…

— W. H. Davies

I used to watch old clips of Muhammad Ali, where he'd be talking the jive during interviews, you know, 'Float like a butterfly, sting…

— Michael Buffer

My loneliness...still comes over me sometimes...It's a liminal, lost sensation of having wandered wide, endless boulevards, among rows of orange trees, winter butterflies, seasons…

— Marco Roth

I just think about what I am doing on my side of the net, which requires focus. Even after all the years I've been…

— Karch Kiraly

When, within our souls and psyches we are made aware of a safe but insistent drum beat, repeated like butterfly wings in motion, we…

— Mary Meeker

Know thyself. A maxim as pernicious as it is ugly. Whoever studies himself arrest his own development. A caterpillar who seeks to know himself…

— Andre Gide

Farewell,' she said. 'I hope you hear many more songs' - which was the best way she could think of to say good-bye to…

— Peter S. Beagle

Kill not the moth nor butterfly, For the Last Judgement draweth nigh.

— William Blake

Do you remember how you felt at seventeen? I do and I don't (...) Imagine you came from outer space and someone showed you…

— Douglas Coupland

“Story is a butterfly whose wings transport us to another world where we receive gifts that change who we are and who we want…

— Harley King

A room full of words that are nearly the truth but not quite, each note fluttering off the steam of its rose like a…

— Lauren Oliver

One day I decided I would like to put a record into my system. So I picked up a record that was lying on…

— Pauline Oliveros

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

— Charles Dickens