It’s very tough for me to focus. I’m like: ‘Look, something shiny! No, focus. Oh, there goes a butterfly!’

What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly.

There is nothing more comfortable than a caterpillar and nothing more made for love than a butterfly. We need dresses that crawl and dresses that fly. Fashion is at once a captapillar and a butterfly, caterpillar by day, butterfly by night.

There is nothing in a caterpillar that tells you it’s going to be a butterfly.

I only ask to be free, the butterflies are free.

We are like butterflies who flutter for a day and think it is forever.

We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.

The caterpillar does all the work, but the butterfly gets all the publicity.

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It gives me goose bumps and little butterflies in the stomach when I start thinking about the ‘golden slam

Happiness is a butterfly. Try to catch it like every night. It escapes from my hands into moonlight.

Float like a butterfly. Sting like a bee. You can’t hit what your eyes don’t see.

Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. His hands can’t hit what his eyes can’t see. Now you see me, now you don’t. George thinks he will, but I know he won’t.

I’m gonna float like a butterfly and sting like a bee.

I am the onliest person that can float like a butterfly and sting like a bee.