Best 14 quotes in «fireflies quotes» category

Even then I found the word fitting, soothing. Fireflies. Fire flies. Fire, fly.

Fireflies were like fairy tales. They appealed to the young, the old, and the imaginative. In a world of detestable insects, these bugs were the exception. They had an adorable way of flying so whimsically despite their butts being on fire.

I slept under the moonlight and set my soul free, caged within jars like fireflies".

Fireflies, to me, are nighttime butterflies, Dazzling the night with magical flashes of light. When I see these teeny tiny sparks dart in the night, I am overcome with a sense of comfort and calm, Same as when a butterfly flutters around me during the day. I’m drawn to the dance of both astonishing critters. They remind me of life. They remind me of hope.

Hermione was back, holding out a gossamer dress of rainbow chiffon so airy I thought of fireflies on a moonlight night.

He was goin' on four and he used to eat fireflies. I don't know. I think he thought they'd make him glow.

I am lost in the embrace of a soft summer night, surrendering to its ecstasy while the voyeuristic fireflies wink knowingly.

I am but a firefly caught in his jar and when he looks at me, I can’t help but glow.

I don't think fireflies have friends. They seem to be singular bugs. They travel in packs, I guess, because when you see one, usually you'll see others. but they're never flocking together, like gnats or hornets. They're individuals. They're independent. Maybe that's why I like them. They're okay by themselves. That and their butts glow green. And that's just cool.

It was as though committing murders had purged him of lesser rudeness. Or perhaps, Starling thought, it excited him to see her marked in this particular way. She couldn't tell. The sparks in his eyes flew into his darkness like fireflies down a cave.

She doesn’t snarl. She smiles instead, but it is a half smile. She is hiding something, an imperfection. There is something about her teeth, the sides of them that she doesn’t want me to see. I am fascinated by this unseen flaw. I want to know what she is hiding. Perhaps this is what is missing from my life, some mysterious flaw that I won’t want to correct

I walk in the direction she tells me. I feel my pores opening, sweat and heat radiating out of my body. A firefly dances in the distance, leaving tracers, and if I turn my head from side to side, I see long yellow-green streaks that cut through my vision and burn in front of my retinas even after the light that sparked them has gone. I emerge from the mango grove into a field. In the distance unseen trucks pass with a sound like the ocean licking the sand. A tracery of darkness curls into a starry sky, a solitary pipal tree making itself known by an absence of light, like a flame caught in a photographer's negative, frozen, calling me.

The fireflies flew up into the sky, free. I watched them until I could no longer tell them apart from the stars.

Ask me about my childhood, and I will tell you to walk to the edge of the woods with a choir of crickets chirping from every direction, a hot, humid breeze brushing through your hair, your feet, bare and callused. Stand there, unmoving, and watch the dance of ten thousand fireflies blinking on and off in the darkness. Inhale the scent of cured tobacco, freshly plowed southern soil, burning leaves, and honeysuckle. Swallow the taste of blackberries, picked straight from the bushes, and lick your teeth, the after-taste still sweet in your mouth. Now, stretch out on the ground and relax all your muscles. Watch nature's festival of flickering lights.