#flies

Pop flies, in a sense, are just a diversion for a second baseman. Grounders are his stock trade. ↗

— Jackie Robinson

#diversion #flies #his #just #pop

He who flies can also return; but it is not so with him who dies. ↗

— Paul Scarron

#dies #flies #him #return #who

And I always think of life like a giant wave. You know, it rises and it crests and it flies, and it's just magnificent, and then it crashes. And for a lot of people, when it crashes, that's the end, and they go down the deep, dark hole of depression. ↗

— Jane Seymour

#crashes #dark #deep #depression #down

Money just draws flies. ↗

— Mahalia Jackson

#flies #just #money

I think there's something in the human psyche that we're titillated by the person who flies too close to the candle and their wings get singed. ↗

— Jeffrey Combs

#close #flies #get #human #human psyche

You tell me you love me, but I’m not sure you know what love is, or how fast it flies, or how much it resembles a UFO, or what kind of weapon you’d use to shoot it down. ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#aliens #extra-terrestrial #flies #fly #flying

The butterflies have flown away, like my ignorance and youth. ↗

— Eileen Granfors

#coming-of-age #mariposas #age

I can never relax. Not even when I have the time to. I am always jumping, always searching. I can't remember the last time something touched my heart. It is like some wall enters a room before me. I cry out of the misery that happens to someone who is unfeeling and uncaring. Out of anger and at the loss of being able to feel untouched happiness or astounding pain. So many times I have looked into the mirror and screamed,"WHAT! WHAT DO YOU WANT! ↗

— Geeta Masurekar- from 'Here is how it happened'

#feeling #happiness #loss #time #time-flies

Butterflies are self propelled flowers. ↗

— R.H. Heinlein

#butterflies #flowers #grace #beauty

...listening with absorbed attention more to her voice than to what she was saying, and thinking how like she was, flowering through her voice into beauty in the darkness, to some butterflies he had come across in the Swiss mountains the summer before. When they were folded up they were grey, mothlike creatures that one might easily overlook, but directly they opened their wings they became the loveliest things in the world, all rose-colour or heavenly blue. So had she been to him in the daylight that afternoon,--an ordinary woman, not in any way noticeable; but now listen to her, opening into beauty on the wings of her voice! ↗

— Elizabeth von Arnim

#butterflies #hidden-beauty #voice #beauty