“As we drove off into the moonless night, raindrops danced through our headlights like the fireflies of my childhood. I silently cursed the frailty of happiness and doubted whether it ever existed for me. I could remember happier times, though, and those memories fluttered about my mind like fireflies, beckoning with their elusive splendor. But chasing memories held no more promise than catching fireflies. The pursued feelings either vanished or lost their magic upon examination, hardly the green-glowing beauty seen at a distance. So I looked ahead of me and dreamed on into the darkness, hoping to one day find someone who would love me.”

“Just then, a singly firefly flashes its light, then another. Within a minute the darkness is filled with fireflies, twinkling their silent melody. I think about all the people in the world, how each of us has a place where we belong. I wonder then what my place looks like. Because I am not there, and I am not sure I have ever seen it.”

“... and then (Daddy) reached up and caught a firefly as it glowed beside him. 'See this light?' he asked me when the firefly lit up his hand ... That light is bright enough to light up a little speck of the night sky so a man can see it a ways away ... We're to be lights in the dark, cold days that are this world. Like fireflies in December.”

“In the distance, they could see the headlights from cars crossing the bridges like fireflies swarming the streets toward home.”

“...Early summer fireflies are beginning to dance above the spindly green stalks of weeds like lonesome boys looking for something beautiful and shiny to flash back at them. Lovers looking for someone to love.”

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