Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Larvae. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Larvae Quotes And Sayings by 93 Authors including Alexander Pope,Robert May,Clive Barker,Ursula K. Le Guin,Shailene Woodley for you to enjoy and share.
Those half-learn'd witlings, num'rous in our isle
As half-form'd insects on the banks of Nile
To a good approximation, all species are insects.
Only once did Lori glimpse such an entity, supine on a mattress in the corner of its boudoir. It was naked, corpulent and sexless, its sagging body a motley of dark, oily skin and larval eruptions that seeped phosphorescence, soaking its simple bed.
The moths look like souls in the underworld,
I think the future of food is in insects.
I have failed in finding parasites in mosquitoes fed on malaria patients, but perhaps I am not using the proper kind of mosquito.
I've seen many a small life meet its doom at the end of a beak in our yard, not just beetles and worms but salamanders and wild-eyed frogs. (The "free-range vegetarian hens" testimony on an egg-carton label is perjury, unless someone's trained them with little shock collars.)
A maggot is just another life form.
Mosquitoes, how wonderful! No one puts them in cages or makes pets out of them.
In summer the empire of insects spreads.
Worms have played a more important part in the history of the world than humans would at first suppose.
Worms are the intestines of the earth.
A metamorphosis ... The shining butterfly of the soul from the pupa of the body. Larva, pupa, imago. An image of art.
What would be left of our tragedies if an insect were to present us theirs?
A peculiar fact about termite-tapeworm-fungus-moss art is that it goes always forward, eating its own boundaries, and, likely as not, leaves nothing in its path other than the signs of eager, industrious, unkempt activity.
This flour of wifly patience.
If worms have the power of acquiring some notion, however rude, of the shape of an object and over their burrows, as seems the case, they deserve to be called intelligent; for they act in nearly the same manner as would man under similar circumstances.
A brown trout sips one off the surface. Beneath the trout, mica-flecked sand gleams white. Come fall the female's caudal fin will nudge the grains to make a nest, the eggs spilling like pearls into a purse.
In my youth, I spent my time investigating insects.
Deathwatch. That's a kind of beetle, it buries carrion. I
There is no greater fan of fly fishing than the worm.
Papilio stomachus: fragile creatures, vulnerable to forst and betrayal.
Butterflies are trapped first, before they are free.
Now did you know if a stick insect laid it's eggs in a jar of Bovril it will give birth to a litter of twiglets.
Caterpillar sheds it's skin to find a butterfly within.
One should pay attention to even the smallest crawling creature for these too may have a valuable lesson to teach us.
If you're an insect, then you're a mayfly. Here for a day and then gone.
He had pink butterfly ears. The rest of him was still in the larval stage.
There is more scholarly work on the life-habits of the dung fly than on existential risks [to humanity].
For every worm beneath the moon Draws different threads, and late and soon Spins, toiling out his own cocoon.
Here and there are worms, evidence of the fertility of the soil, caught by the sun, half dead; flexible and pink, like lips.
A worm tells summer better than the clock,
The slug's a living calendar of days;
What shall it tell me if a timeless insect
Says the world wears away?
Example is a dangerous lure: where the wasp got through the gnat sticks fast.
The caterpillar turns to liquid before turning into a butterfly. Liquid. Thus washing away any speck of his caterpillar self as he lies completely vulnerable to his environment in his chrysalis shell. One good solid gust of wind and the caterpillars boned.
Bookworms are the most precious worms in the world when they are humans, feeding upon the paper's body with their starving minds.
Caterpillars can fly, if they just lighten up.
The ancient house is our chrysalis, trapping us until our metamorphosis is complete: our chic city wings plucked from our backs and we'll emerge as fat, white farm larvae. Like the ones living in the corral cow pies.
I love insects. They are amazing.
A constant flickering confetti of butterflies showered the town of Darwin. Designer insects, I think of them now: there was something enormously wasteful, extravagant even, about the profusion of patterns and shapes and brilliant colours.
A leech that will not quit the skin until sated with blood.
Boys and girls, And women, that would groan to see a child Pull off an insect's leg, all read of war, The best amusement for our morning meal.
To insects--sensual lust.
If you stand a lantern under a tree every insect in the forest creeps up to it - a curious assembly, since though they scramble and swing and knock their heads against the glass, they seem to have no purpose - something senseless inspires them.
It was only a dream. It was only a larval poem. -
The early worm catches the fishies and all, you know.
Ugly caterpillars still turn into beautiful butterflies.
Insects are what neurosis would sound like, if neurosis could make a noise with its nose.
They're disgusting. Those papery wings and their stupid bug bodies ...
Bone-white moths drop one by one to cover cuts on Odette's legs and obscure mud-water splotches patterning her skirts. They rest at the bases of her fingers like heaving white jewels on rings lighter than air.
I am rather fond of ladybugs. They are so delightfully hemispherical.
Don't diss the caterpillar and then sweat it when it starts to turn into a beautiful butterfly.
What may look normal to a spider , will look like a chaos to a mosquito.
Who when examining in the cabinet of the entomologist the gay and exotic butterflies, and singular cicadas, will associate with these lifeless objects, the ceaseless harsh music of the latter, and the lazy flight of the former - the sure accompaniments of the still, glowing noonday of the tropics.
Fireflies ... They'll follow you wherever you like, as long as you're polite to 'em.
Our houses are hosts to these creatures which are ultra-tiny (so small they were only first discovered in 1965) which live in human carpets, in our beds, on our food, floating in the air, in fact, they are omnipresent.
Grobanite makes me think of a type of harmless crustacean.
When a caterpillar changes into a butterfly it loses it's caterpillar life.
Flies? Flies? Poor puny things. Who wants to eat flies?
Bees and butterflies, moths and dragonflies, the flowers and the brooks and the clouds.
Do flies trapped in amber scream?
Who has more leisure than a worm?
The best gardener is a baby killer. Baby insects are much easier to kill than adults, and haven't yet developed the big mouths and voracious appetite of the adolescent.
Entomologists have a name for young flies, but it is an ugly name, an insult. Let's not use the word "maggot." Let's use a pretty word. Let's use "hacienda.
It may not be irrelevant to note that even very modest forms of life, like earthworms, dung beetles and fiddler crabs, have no trouble identifying the real problems they must deal with if they are to survive.
Fireflies were the souls of unbaptized dead infants.
The mosquito is the state bird of New Jersey.
Happy insect! what can be In happiness compared to thee? Fed with nourishment divine, The dewy morning's gentle wine! Nature waits upon thee still, And thy verdant cup does fill; 'Tis fill'd wherever thou dost tread, Nature's self's thy Ganymede.
was a parasite with nasty teeth,
Earthworms are the intenstines of the soil.
With enough eyes, all bugs are shallow.
To learn more about parasites, check out Parasite Rex, by Carl Zimmer. There are many, many books on the subject, but his is one of the most accessible jumping-on points you're likely to find. Welcome to the war.
They're really aggressive. They're like roaches on bread - you drop some on the floor and, boom, they're on it.
The brain may be regarded as a kind of parasite of the organism..
Around the steel no tortur'd worm shall twine, No blood of living insect stain my line; Let me, less cruel, cast the feather'd hook, With pliant rod athwart the pebbled brook, Silent along the mazy margin stray, And with the fur-wrought fly delude the prey.
The careful insect 'midst his works I view,
Now from the flowers exhaust the fragrant dew,
With golden treasures load his little thighs,
And steer his distant journey through the skies.
O'er folded blooms On swirls of musk, The beetle booms adown the glooms And bumps along the dusk.
They can fly and they howl, they slaughter depression and headaches, they daydream like gangbanging daffodils, orchids and cherry blossoms grasping mauve toffee clouds, they breastfeed laughter.
Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth.
The mosquito knows full well, small as he is he's a beast of prey. But after all he only takes his bellyful, he doesn't put my blood in the bank.
All books are butterflies, having lived the life of a caterpillar.
Malaria-hosting mosquitoes will not wait politely during their most active evening feeding hours for people to go to bed under mosquito nets.
When I was a girl I would look out my bedroom window at the caterpillars; I envied them so much. No matter what they were before, no matter what happened to them, they could just hide away and turn into these beautiful creatures that could fly away completely untouched.
Mosquitoes remind us that we are not as high up on the food chain as we think.
Within the beautiful struggle of a cocoon all butterflies are made.
The termites have got me.
Never step on caterpillars, as one day they'll become butterflies, and you'll never know when you'll need a ride on their wings of fortune.
Buzzards got to eat; same as worms.
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.
The patient bird breakfasts on the
juiciest worm.
People have this idea that nature dictates a sort of 1950s sitcom version of what males and females are like. That is just not the case in the insect world.
The seeds of the life of fishes are everywhere disseminated, whether the winds waft them, or the waters float them, or the deep earth holds them; wherever a pond is dug, straightway it is stocked with this vivacious race. They have a lease of nature, and it is not yet out.
Earthworms cannot be painters. Those who live in the darkness can never perceive and appreciate the beauties of the light!
The end of the caterpillar is the beginning of the butterfly.
The early worm gets bird shit.
I have no pity! I have no pity! The more worms writhe, the more I yearn to crush out their entrails! It is a moral teething, and I grind with greater energy, in proportion to the increase of pain.
No insect hangs its nest on threads as frail as those which will sustain the weight of human vanity
Let me tell you, nothing puts you off your bar-food nachos quicker than a lecture on the color and consistency of slug secretions.
That parasite: the past.
Nature is always lavish of her gifts even to the most insignificant forms. The butterflies and moths are richly dowered in this respect.
What a moth might see from birth to death if black were white and white were black,