What a moth might see from birth to death if black were white and white were black, — Stan Brakhage Copy Share Image
Moths, and all sorts of ugly creatures, hover about a lighted candle. Can the candle help it? — Charles Dickens Copy Share Image
The moths beat themselves to death against the lights. Adding their breeze to the summer nights. — Modest Mouse Copy Share Image
Like a moth to a flame we become helpless to the beautiful ghosts that true love sheds. — Ryan O'Neal Copy Share Image
Kill not the moth nor butterfly, For the Last Judgement draweth nigh. — William Blake Copy Share Image
The atoms become like a moth, seeking out the region of higher laser intensity. — Steven Chu Copy Share Image
The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere… — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
The curtain of the universe is moth-eaten, and through its holes we see nothing now but mask and ghost. — Emile M. Cioran Copy Share Image
Announcing your death should be like announcing that you are a lunar moth: It must be done quietly or it will not… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
Look, I guess it's natural, you're teenagers, its springtime,everyone's thoughts are turning to birds and bees and caterpillars and moths… - Iggy — James Patterson Copy Share Image
Words betrayed her: beautiful butterflies in her mind; dead moths when she opened her mouth for their release into the world. — Glen Duncan Copy Share Image
“Nobody ever thinks about the flame. It always ends up alone, and surrounded by a bunch of dead moths.” — Charity Parkerson Copy Share Image
The weeping of the candle is not in mourning for the moth: the dawn is at hand, and it is thinking of… — Saib Tabrizi Copy Share Image
“Butterflies, as if unaware that darkness is no impediment to love, are playing the primordial game with light.” — Suman Pokhrel Copy Share Image
The moth settled onto the curtain and sat still. It was an astonishing creature, with black and white wings patterned in geometric… — Barbara Kingsolver Copy Share Image
A slight sabre-cut will separate my head from my body, like the spring flower which the Master of the garden gathers for… — Theophane Venard Copy Share Image
“Every single one of them with their eyes open and on him, their mouths, too, halfway screaming, halfway begging. Offering themselves to… — Glen Hirshberg Copy Share Image
Fly away, pretty moth, to the shade Of the leaf where you slumbered all day; Be content with the moon and the… — Thomas Haynes Bayly Copy Share Image
“Moths swarmed around the parking lot lamps, banging into the glass with a steady tap-tap-tap, and I wondered if they welcomed the… — Robert Crais Copy Share Image
One word is too often profaned For me to profane it, One feeling too falsely disdain'd For thee to disdain it. One… — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
So each man, like each plant, has his parasites. A strong, astringent, bilious nature has more truculent enemies than the slugs and… — Ralph Waldo Emerson Copy Share Image
This is how moths speak to each other. They tell their love across the fields by scent. There is no mouth, the… — Barbara Kingsolver Copy Share Image
“We see only moths wheeling into our candle, and we ask the wrong question: Why are all these moths committing suicide? Instead,… — Richard Dawkins Copy Share Image
It is in the twenties that the actual momentum of life begins to slacken, and it is a simple soul indeed to… — F. Scott Fitzgerald Copy Share Image
It is not always the most brilliant speculations nor the choice of the most exotic materials that is most profitable. I prefer… — Noel-Antoine Pluche Copy Share Image
“The possibilities of pleasure seemed that morning so enormous and so various that to have only a moth's part in life, and… — Virginia Woolf Copy Share Image
“It was the moths that first revealed the change. Grey-tipped whispers in the moonlit night. Two or three here, a single one… — Debi Cimo Copy Share Image
Summer is a prodigal of joy. The grass Swarms with delighted insects as I pass, And crowds of grasshoppers at every stride… — John Clare Copy Share Image
A story demanded to be written, and that is why I have not answered your letter before: a wrong-headed story, that would… — Sylvia Townsend Warner Copy Share Image
“Taryn is beautiful in her heavily embroidered dress, and Vivi radiant in soft violet grey with artfully sewn moths seeming to fly… — Holly Black Copy Share Image
