Is it right to trap a butterfly in your hand? To feel a flutter of wings beneath your fingers and know you have the power to play God?
Is it right to pluck a rose from its usual soil of safety? Surely murder its sweet soul, by force-feeding it a love that will inevitably kill it? To want to keep this beautiful flower all for yourself?
Is it right to chase and chase a rainbow? Surely the pot of gold at the end will be no use to you in material terms. If you take the beauty out of everything – the world will become colourless. Desolute. Dull. Empty. Is it right to follow dreams where there is such a large gap between fantasy and reality; idealism and realism?