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— Nalini Singh"Voles-tu, mon petit papillon.” Illium laughed at Galen’s instruction to “fly, little butterfly"
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She looked, and a scarlet butterfly flew away from her, away down the length of the tower, and then another, another, an unraveling scarf of butterflies like winged blood.
— Tanith Lee
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And they were quiet but their blood and nerves and butterflies were not—they were rampantly alive, rushing and thrumming in a wild and perfect melody, matched note for note.
— Laini Taylor
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