She was the only one left, and she was real.
To be the only one, and to know that you are real - that's sanity, isn't it?
But just to be on the safe side, maybe it was best to keep pretending that one was a stuffed figure. Not to move. Never to move. Just to sit here in the tiny room, forever and ever.
If she sat there without moving, they wouldn't punish her.
If she sat there without moving, they'd know that she was sane, sane, sane.
She sat there for quite a long time, and then a fly came buzzing through the bars.
It lighted on her hand.
If she wanted to, she could reach out and swat the fly.
But she didn't swat it.
She didn't swat it, and she hoped they were watching, because that proved what sort of a person she really was.
Why, she wouldn't even harm a fly...

....would never do anything to hurt her.

I don't have the desire to hurt anyone anymore. I see a fly, but I don't have the nerve to get up and kill it.

When I held her, I held her gently so that she always knew she could fly away and I would never harm her or clip her wings.

She feared no danger, for she knew no sin.

In the stillness, a fly would not have dared clear it's throat.

There is no beast, no rush of fire, like woman so untamed. She calmly goes her way where even panthers would be shamed.

The fly that does not want to be swatted is safest if it sits on the fly-swat.

My envy's not dangerous; it wouldn't hurt a mouse.

To threaten no one; for that is a womanly trick.

A lady cannot be blamed if a master criminal takes a fancy to her.

She won't think anything about it.

She was like Marat only with nobody to kill her.

She never stumbles,
she's got no place to fall.
She's nobody's child,
the law can't touch her at all.