- Ha! Whare ye gaun, ye crawlin' ferlie?
Your impudence protects you sairly;
I canna say but ye strunt rarely
Owre gauze an' lace;
Though faith! I fear ye dine but sparely
On sic a place.
- Robert Burns, To a Louse, reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 464.
- Fair insect! that, with threadlike legs spread out,
And blood-extracting bill and filmy wing,
Dost murmur, as thou slowly sail'st about,
In pitiless ears full many a plaintive thing,
And tell how little our large veins would bleed,
Would we but yield them to thy bitter need.
- William Cullen Bryant, To a Mosquito; reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 530.
- What gained we, little moth? Thy ashes,
Thy one brief parting pang may show:
And withering thoughts for soul that dashes,
From deep to deep, are but a death more slow.
- Thomas Carlyle, Tragedy of the Night Moth, Stanza 14; reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 530.
- Thou art a female, Katydid!
I know it by the trill
That quivers through thy piercing notes
So petulant and shrill.
I think there is a knot of you
Beneath the hollow tree,
A knot of spinster Katydids,—
Do Katydids drink tea?
- Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., To an Insect; reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 415.
- An inordinate fondness for beetles
- The (possibly apocryphal) response J. B. S. Haldane gave when asked what could be inferred about the mind of the Creator from the works of Creation. Reported in Hutchinson, G. Evelyn (1959). "Homage to Santa Rosalia or Why Are There So Many Kinds of Animals?". The American Naturalist 93 (870): pp. 145–159.
- To a good approximation, all species are insects.
- Meanwhile, there is dancing in yonder green bower,
A swarm of young midges, they dance high and low;
'Tis a sweet little species that lives but one hour,
And the eldest was born half an hour ago.
- Owen Meredith (Lord Lytton), Midges; reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 512.
- A work of skill, surpassing sense,
A labor of Omnipotence;
Though frail as dust it meet thine eye,
He form'd this gnat who built the sky.
- James Montgomery, The Gnat; reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 315.
- The midge's wing beats to and fro
A thousand times ere one can utter "O."
- Coventry Patmore, The Cry at Midnight; reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 512.
- The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine!
Feels at each thread, and lives along the line.
- Alexander Pope, An Essay on Man (1733-34), lines 217-8.
- Where the katydid works her chromatic reed on the walnut-tree over the well.
- Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, Song of Myself, Part 33, line 61; reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 415.
- Happy the Cicadas live, since they all have voiceless wives.
- Xenarchus (Grecian poet), quoted in Charles Darwin, Descent of Man, and Selection in Relation to Sex (1876).
- Nothing more than a little shrimp-like animal, standing on its head in a limestone house and kicking food into its mouth
- Don't accept the chauvinistic tradition that labels our era the age of mammals. This is the age of arthropods. They outnumber us by any criterion – by species, by individuals, by prospects for evolutionary continuation.
- Stephen Jay Gould, 1988.
- If we live out our span of life on earth without ever knowing a crab intimately we have missed having a jolly friendship. Life is a little incomplete if we can look back and recall these small people only as supplying the course after soup and with the Chablis.
- What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls a butterfly.
- There is nothing in a caterpillar that tells you it's going to be a butterfly.
- A fly, Sir, may sting a stately horse and make him wince; but one is but an insect, and the other is a horse still.
- God in His wisdom made the fly. And then forgot to tell us why.
- Ogden Nash, "The Fly".
- I never could have thought of it, to have a little bug all lit and made to go on wings.
- Elizabeth Madox Roberts, "Firefly".
- The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.
- Rabindranath Tagore "Stray Birds"'
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