Flies Quotes

“Where there are humans,
You'll find flies,
And Buddhas.”
― Kobayashi Issa

“You never walk alone. Even the devil is the lord of flies.”
― Gilles Deleuze

“True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings.”
― William Shakespeare

“And when Hugh would grow progressively Gandhi on me, I'd remind him that these were pests---disease carriers who feasted upon the dead and then came indoors to dance upon our silverware.”
― David Sedaris, When You Are Engulfed in Flames

“(Parody that is often falsely believed to be a true quote of Mariah Carey's) Whenever I watch TV and see those poor starving kids all over the world, I can't help but cry. I mean I'd love to be skinny like that but not with all those flies and death and stuff. ”
― Mad Magazine Editors

“When the Attorney-General ceased, a buzz arose in the court as if a cloud of great blue-flies were swarming about the prisoner, in anticipation of what he was soon to become.”
― Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

“To whom shall I run for help in my trouble, to whom shall I complain of the ravaging flies that rob me of my breath, and like enemies press hard on me! They run acrossc my eyes and brows, and whisper love songs in my ears. I want to eat my meal alone, but they, like wolves, share it with me, and drink from my cup of wine as if they were invited guests or kin. (...) But I hope the winter will destroy them with its cold wind and snow, and rain, else I would despise life on their account.”
― Abraham Ibn Ezra

“38. “A wet bird never flies at night.” (My grandfather said that to me when I was a child and warned me not to forget it. I remember his words but never did figure out what he meant!)”
― James C. Dobson, Life on the Edge: The Next Generation's Guide to a Meaningful Future

“I had gone no more than a dozen feet when I was joined by a fly—smaller and blacker than a housefly. It buzzed around in front of my face and tried to settle on my upper lip. I swatted it away, but it returned at once, always to the same spot. A moment later it was joined by another that wished to go up my nose. It also would not go away. Within a minute or so I had perhaps twenty of these active spots all around my head and I was swiftly sinking into the state of abject wretchedness that comes with a prolonged encounter with the Australian fly. Flies are of course always irksome, but the Australian variety distinguishes itself with its very particular persistence. If an Australian fly wants to be up your nose or in your ear, there is no discouraging him. Flick at him as you will and each time he will jump out of range and come straight back. It is simply not possible to deter him. Somewhere on an exposed portion of your body is a spot, about the size of a shirt button, that the fly wants to lick and tickle and turn delirious circles upon. It isn’t simply their persistence, but the things they go for.”
― Bill Bryson, In a Sunburned Country

“It's like Eldridge Kestenbaum always says - you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."
"Horse manure catches more flies than honey and vinegar put together," retorted Mark.”
― Gordon Korman, Radio Fifth Grade

“...it is not your words that persuade me. They are as the tedious buzzing of flies in my ear.”
― Mika Waltari, The Egyptian

“And you, fathers and mothers, loving par-ents, lower your eyes humbly. They are there, your dead children, stretching their frail arms towards you, and all the happiness you denied them, all the tortures you inflicted, weigh like lead on their sad, childish, unforgiving hearts.”
― Jean-Paul Sartre, No Exit and Three Other Plays

“Time flies and flies time. I know, because I sold them a tiny stopwatch. They love to race. But they aren't quite fast enough to avoid being snacks for my ducks.”
― Jarod Kintz, Music is fluid, and my saxophone overflows when my ducks slosh in the sounds I make in elevators.

“He tossed on the pillow, trying to dislodge the flies that tormented him every waking hour. Had there always been so many? He had never noticed them so keenly before; but now, tied to this bed, he began to think that had he been Pharaoh, he would have let the Hebrew children go anywhere they wanted, with whatever they wanted, at the beginning of the fourth plague, without any more argument.”
― Sarah Brazytis, The Letter

“717! You are behaving like a demented bluebottle - stop that!”
― Laline Paull, The Bees

“Mr Ambrayses nodded. “Two explanations are commonly offered for this,” he said:

“In the first we are asked to imagine certain sites in the world–a crack in the concrete in Chicago or New Delhi, a twist in the air in an empty suburb of Prague, a clotted milk bottle on a Bradford tip–from which all flies issue in a constant stream, a smoke exhaled from some fundamental level of things. This is what people are asking–though they do not usually know it–when they say exasperatedly, “Where are all these flies coming from ?” Such locations are like the holes in the side of a new house where insulation has been pumped in: something left over from the constructional phase of the world.

“This is an adequate, even an appealing model of the process. But it is not modern; and I prefer the alternative, in which it is assumed that as Viriconium grinds past us, dragging its enormous bulk against the bulk of the world, the energy generated is expressed in the form of these insects, which are like the sparks shooting from between two flywheels that have momentarily brushed each other.”
― M. John HarrisonHarrison

“There isn't much a lion can do amid flies.”
― VKBoy, Shambala Sect

“There isn't much a lion can do in the midst of flies.”
― VKBoy, Shambala Sect

“A moose can and will murder the unwary in ways obvious to improbable. They can trample you, the pressure of tons of muscle and bone turning your own into jelly. Their antlers pose an understandable risk not merely of goring at thirty-five miles an hour but picking up your limp body and tossing it over a cliff. As though this was an insufficient threat, their nostrils may house bumblebee-like Cephenemyia ulrichii, flies unable to distinguish between moose nasal cavities and human eye sockets when spraying their larvae. You wouldn’t die, but you would need immediate medical attention to prevent significant injury and certain embarrassment when your friends found out.”
― Thomm Quackenbush, Holidays with Bigfoot

“I killed a fruit fly that wouldn't get out of my face by clapping my hands on it. In its last act of kamikaze defiance, the fly hurled its fading carcass into a coffee I had only half-drunk and was enjoying. I had to pour it down the drain. F***er.”
― Stewart Stafford

“There isn't much a lion can do amid flies.”
― Lirzod Basha, Shambala Sect

“Have you ever eaten flies?" Mendiondo asked.
"Yes, when I was a kid, on a dare. Of course, I tore off the wings and tiny legs before I ate it.”
― Silvina Ocampo, The Promise

“What did the weevils say?
‘We-evil!”
― Michael Bassey Johnson, Song of a Nature Lover

“Just understand, whatever flies, it doesn't matter when, but that lands back.”
― Ehsan Sehgal

“Creating a beautiful net doesn’t guarantee the beautiful flies will come in it..”
― Jaya Bhateja

“Do flies fly backwards in the summer of the spring?”
― Anthony T. Hincks

“The flies? How do the flies come in? us They are a symbol. But if you want to know what the gods did, look around you. See that old creature over there, creeping away like a beetle on her little black feet, and hugging the walls. Well, she's a good specimen of the squat
black vermin that teem in every cranny of this town. Now watch me catch our specimen, it's well worth inspection. Here it is. A loathsome object, you'll agree. . . . Hah! You're blinking now. Still, you're an Argive and you should he used to the white-hot rapiers of the sun. . . . Watch her wriggling, like a hooked fish! . . Now, old lady, let's hear your tale of woe. I see you're in black from head to foot. In mourning for a whole regiment of sons, is that it? Tell us, and I'll release you—perhaps. For whom are you in mourning?”
― Jean-Paul Sartre, No Exit and Three Other Plays

“Black flies, no-see-ums, deer flies, gnats and mosquitoes were instituted by the devil to force people to live in cities where he could get at them better. If it weren't for them everybody would live in the bush and he would be out of work. It was a rather successful invention.”
― Ernest Hemingway, Camping Out

“The buzzing flies and screaming survivors had long since replaced the beating war-drums.

The killing field was now a tangled sprawl of corpses, human and faerie alike, interrupted only by the broken wings jutting toward the grey sky or the occasional bulk of a felled horse.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“Outside, the valley was hazy with the afternoon sun. Midges shimmered in the sweet-smelling air.
"Ugh," said Frederick, swatting at his face. "Don't care much for midges, I must say. Not quite sure there's any point to them, the blasted things."
"Oh, but there is," Violet said, excitedly. "A point to them, I mean. They're a very important food source for toads and swallows, actually. You could say the whole valley depends on them, in the summer. And I think they're rather pretty---they look a bit like fairy dust, in this light, don't you think?”
― Emilia Hart, Weyward