“Bees blew like cake-crumbs through the golden air, white butterflies like sugared wafers, and when it wasn't raining a diamond dust took over which veiled and yet magnified all things”
Source: Cider With Rosie
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Laurie Lee 22
British writer 1914–1997Related quotes
Source: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
“I float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. There's nobody as beautiful or as powerful as me!”
Billy Graham, Tangled Ropes: Superstar Billy Graham (2006)
Source: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
The Fantastic Imagination (1893)
Context: A fairytale, like a butterfly or a bee, helps itself on all sides, sips at every wholesome flower, and spoils not one. The true fairytale is, to my mind, very like the sonata. We all know that a sonata means something; and where there is the faculty of talking with suitable vagueness, and choosing metaphor sufficiently loose, mind may approach mind, in the interpretation of a sonata, with the result of a more or less contenting consciousness of sympathy. But if two or three men sat down to write each what the sonata meant to him, what approximation to definite idea would be the result? Little enough — and that little more than needful. We should find it had roused related, if not identical, feelings, but probably not one common thought. Has the sonata therefore failed? Had it undertaken to convey, or ought it to be expected to impart anything defined, anything notionally recognizable?
"But words are not music; words at least are meant and fitted to carry a precise meaning!"
It is very seldom indeed that they carry the exact meaning of any user of them! And if they can be so used as to convey definite meaning, it does not follow that they ought never to carry anything else. Words are like things that may be variously employed to various ends. They can convey a scientific fact, or throw a shadow of her child's dream on the heart of a mother. They are things to put together like the pieces of a dissected map, or to arrange like the notes on a stave.
“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. The hands can't hit what the eyes can't see.”
Variant: Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.
Source: Muhammad Ali: His Life and Times
"Twenty-three Horse Poems", 5 (《马诗二十三首（其五）》), in Song of the Immortals: An Anthology of Classical Chinese Poetry, trans. Xu Yuanchong (Penguin Books, 1994), p. 91
Original: (zh-CN) 大漠沙如雪，燕山月似钩。
何当金络脑，快走踏清秋。
In 'La mort tient le volant...', in La ville charnelle, E. Sansot, Paris 1908, p. 228; as quoted in Inventing Futurism: The Art and Politics of Artificial Optimism, by Christine Poggi, Princeton University Press, 2009, p. 27, (note 77)
1900's