A Quote by Aimee Mann
The moth don't care when he sees the flame
He might get burned, but he's in the game
And once he's in, he can't go back
He'll beat his wings till he burns them black
No, the moth don't care when he sees the flame
The moth don't care if the flame is real
'Cause flame and moth got a sweetheart deal
And nothing fuels a good flirtation
Like need and anger and desperation
No, the moth don't care if the flame is real.
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One night, a group of moths gathered on a shelf watching a burning candle. Puzzled by the nature of the light, they sent one of their members to go and check on it. The scouting moth circled the candle several times and came back with a description: The light was bright. Then a second moth went to examine it. He, too, came back with an observation: The light was hot. Finally a third moth volunteered to go. When he approached the candle he didn't stop like his friends had done, but flew straight into the flame. He was consumed there and then, and only he understood the nature of the light.
Be the flame, not the moth.
Her lips were drawn to his like a moth to a flame.
Moth to a flame I follow.
Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame; Each to his passion; what's in a name?
She was drawn to damaged souls like a moth to a flame.
How, like a moth, the simple maid Still plays around the flame!
Moth: I gave you my life. Flame: I allowed you to kiss me.
Like a moth to a flame we become helpless to the beautiful ghosts that true love sheds.
Inherently in us as Irish people, wherever you are in the world, when you hear an Irish accent, it's like a moth to a flame. There's a real personable pride and camaraderie about being Irish.
In Hollywood, maybe only ten percent will make it and the other ninety percent try. This elusive dream of making it and being on top is the same story as the moth being drawn to the flame. The flame and it's attractiveness is something you'll never eliminate. Some will learn how to live in that environment and others will burn in it.
Change itself is what fascinates me. I am drawn, as a moth to the flame, by edge situations, by situations of metamorphosis.
I love women. I love all the bright and attractive people and things of this world, the flame and also the moth, the dancer and the dance.
Fly away, pretty moth, to the shade Of the leaf where you slumbered all day; Be content with the moon and the stars, pretty moth, And make use of your wings while you may. . . . . But tho' dreams of delight may have dazzled you quite, They at last found it dangerous play; Many things in this world that look bright, pretty moth, Only dazzle to lead us astray.
My favourite memory was the first time my mum bought me a bubble blower. I must have been the happiest girl in the world that day. I was all over those bubbles like a moth to a flame.
Remember Killer Moth, the most ingenuous rogue ever to defy the dynamic duo, Batman and Robin ?Perhaps you recall how the weird beam from the Moth Signal summoned the Gangland Guardian to the aid of desperate criminals ?And who can forget the eerie Moth Cave where new and startling implements of crime were produced by this evil genius !
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