“Sadie heard a flurry of wing snap as yellow, orange, and tiger-striped moths flew into the light. Dean stood haloed by moths that pulsed like slips of paper along his shoulders and arms. He lifted each one on his finger, naming them for her.”
“Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame; Each to his passion; what's in a name? ”
“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 'til 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. . . ”
“And when white moths were on the wing and moth-like stars were flickering out”
“Her body was wrapped in shadows like moth wings, like rose-petals.”
“Her lips were drawn to his like a moth to a flame.”