Bee Stung Quotes

Don't run away from the gains because it comes with pains. If you ever love to go for the sweet honey, be ready to be stung by a busy bee! Go for it anyway! ~ Israelmore Ayivor

With bee-stung lips and bolt-on boobs, ~ Terry Hayes

Just reason it out. What are the pros and cons with her?"
"Reason! Always with your bloody reason. Do you know what I'm going to enjoy? When you meet your demoness and she shakes to tell your unflappable demeanor. I'm going to laugh when you turn enraged, horns flaring ramrod straight every time she saunters by."
"Noted. Now, begin with the pros."
"Verra well. She's clever, she's brave, and, by all the gods, she's graced in form. And I'm no' going to apologize for being a typical male - I do want the sexiest female I've ever laid eyes on to be mine. I'll admit that I want her on my arm and in my bed. And I want to be smug over having her desire me, too."
"The cons . . ."
"Right back to the witchery. Would you no' be a tad unnerved if your female could unleash the force of an atomic bomb whenever she got nettled with you?"
Rydstrom nodded in commiseration, then said, "Take away the fact that she's a witch - "
"I will be taking away that fact," Bowe interrupted. "Practicing witchcraft is voluntary. I could see to it that she never - "
Out of the blue, a bee stung him. "Damn it," he muttered, slapping it away, then continued, "If I snatched her away from her coven and immersed her with the Lykae - "
Another sting. "Son of a bitch!"
When the odd breeze blew once more, Bowe narrowed his eyes. "The witch." He gazed up at the sky and all around him. "Playing with me again! I'll turn her over my knee for this. ~ Kresley Cole

echoing gabble and nonsense, and then something bee-stung the inside of my right elbow and everything mellowed and faded out again. The next things I registered were the sounds and the smells of a hospital room. ~ Ken McKea

This, too, was like seeing double. This was where my heartaches began.

In combat zones there is no structure, the form of things changes all the time. Safety, danger, control, panic, these and other labels constantly attach and detach themselves from places and people. When you emerge from such a space it stays with you, its otherness randomly imposes itself on the apparent stability of your peaceful home-town streets. What-if becomes the truth, you imagine buildings exploding in Gramercy Park, you see craters appear in the middle of Washington Square, and women carrying shopping bags drop dead on Delancey Street, bee-stung by sniper fire. You take pictures of your small patch of Manhattan and ghost images begin to appear in them, negative phantoms of the distant dead. Double exposure: like Kirlian photography, it becomes a new kind of truth. ~ Salman Rushdie

I intend to extract a kiss from those bee-stung lips of yours for every minute of that time - when the time is right. I will kiss you till you beg for mercy. Then I'll kiss you elsewhere, right between your legs. I intend to eat you for hours, until you beg for my cock. And then I will fuck you until you pass out from screaming my name. And if you think those are just words, that I don't intend to rock your fucking world, then I feel sorry for you. Because the reality will blow your goddamn mind. ~ Zara Cox

All the foods that you regularly eat are ones that you learned to eat. Everyone starts life drinking milk. After that, it's all up for grabs. From our first year of life, human tastes are astonishingly diverse. ~ Bee Wilson

ur the one who everyone is afraid of. not us bees. everybody is afraid of u and so u have nobody to give your love to, and i think thats made u feel like life has been unfair to u. but still, even then, uve stayed positive. uve spent ur whole life by urself, with urself, and so u have learned how to know urself and how to love ur life and u are truly happy with both those things. but I think that even in ur happy solitary life, u fear, more than anything else, that nobody will ever get to know the powerful love that you have grown within urself. its like having a secret that u cant share with anybody because nobody is willing to listen. and so while u are not lonely, u still sometimes like to imagine a life with sombody else, yet for the life of u, u cant imagine who that sombody could be. and so u project that fear and anger into others - those who have that one thing that u do not. ur so full of love, but all ur love comes out of u in destructive ways. ~ Jomny Sun

One bee does not make a swarm.
One wasp does not make a nest.
One wolf does not make a pack.
One bull does not make a herd.
One dog does not make a litter.
One sheep does not make a flock.
One lion does not make a pride.

One branch does not make a tree.
One pebble does not make a hill.
One rock does not make a mountain.
One dune does not make a desert.
One spark does not make a flame.
One finger does not make a hand.
One color does not make a rainbow.

One leaf does not make a plant.
One flower does not make a garden.
One seed does not make a forest.
One drop does not make an ocean.
One cloud does not make a sky.
One star does not make a galaxy.
One world does not make a universe. ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

War thoughts again. I think back to the business cards from that health shop earlier on. I think about miniature wars that individuals fight all the time. They fight against cellulite, or negative emotions, or addictions, or stress. I think about how we can now hire all different sorts of mercenaries to help us fight against ourselves…Therapists, manicurists, hairdressers, personal trainers, life coaches. But what's it all for? What do all these little wars achieve? Although it is a part of my life too, and I want to be thin and pretty and not laughed at in the street and not so stressed and mad that I start screaming on the tube, it suddenly seems a little bit ridiculous. All the time we do these things we are trying to enlist ourselves into a bigger war. We are trying to join up, constantly, with the enemy.
-
Hitler tried to impose his shiny, blonde, neat, sparkling world on us all and we resisted. So how is it that when McDonald's and Disney and The Gap and L'Oreal and all the others try to do the same thing we all just say, 'OK'? Hitler needed marketing, that's all. His propaganda was, of course, brilliant for its time, everyone knows that. What a great idea, to make people feel that they belong to something, that their identity makes them special. If Hilter had bee able to enlist a twenty-first-century marketing department, would he have been able to sell Nazism to everyone? Why not? You can just see a beautiful, thin woman with her long blonde hair moving sof ~ Scarlett Thomas

When you see honey in the bush and there are no sign of bees, flee!! for its all but a trap ~ Ikechukwu Izuakor

She was stretched on her back beneath the pear tree soaking in the alto chant of the visiting bees, the gold of the sun and the panting breath of the breeze when the inaudible voice of it all came to her. She saw a dust-bearing bee sink into the sanctum of a bloom; the thousand sister-calyxes arch to meet the love embrace and the ecstatic shiver of the tree from root to tiniest branch creaming in every blossom and frothing with delight. ~ Zora Neale Hurston

What is the world doing? Have new gods been discovered, new laws, new freedoms? Who cares! But up here a primrose is blossoming and bearing silver fuzz on its leaves, and the light sweet wind is singing below me in the poplars, and between my eyes and heaven a dark golden bee is hovering and humming - I care about that. It is humming the song of happiness, humming the song of eternity. Its song is my history of the world. ~ Hermann Hesse

Even the bees I'd swear were sent to protect us in the delicate business of hives and honey are stung to silence by the news that something winged has lost its flight. ~ Kristen Henderson

Clumsily she reached for her bodice, trying to pull the reinforced fabric together.
"Allow me. You're still unsteady." His hands brushed hers aside and he began to hook her corset deftly.
Clearly he was familiar with the intricacies of a woman's undergarments. Amelia didn't doubt there had been more than a few ladies willing to let him practice.
Flustered, she asked, "Was I stung anywhere?"
"No." Mischief flickered in his eyes. "I checked thoroughly. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Using the dagger next to him on the nightstand, Dante scored a fresh line on his wrist. He pressed the bleeding cut to Tess's lips, waiting to feel her respond, wanting to curse to the rafters when her mouth remained unmoving, his blood dripping down, useless, onto her chin.
"Come on, angel. Drink for me." He stroked her cool cheek, brushed a tangle of her honey-blond hair from her forehead. "Please live, Tess . . . drink, and live."

A throat cleared awkwardly from the area near the bedroom doorjamb. "I'm sorry, the uh . . . the door was open."

Chase. Just fucking great. Dante couldn't think of anyone he'd like to see less right now. He was too entrenched in what he was doing - in what he was feeling - to deal with another interruption, particularly one coming from the Darkhaven agent. He'd hoped the bastard was already long gone from the compound, back to where he came from - preferably with one of Lucan's size-fourteens planted all the way up his ass. Then again, maybe Lucan was saving the privilege for Dante instead.
"Get out," he growled.

"Is she drinking at all?"

Dante scoffed, low under his breath.

"What part of 'get out' did you fail to understand, Harvard? I don't need an audience right now, and I sure as hell don't need any more of your bullshit."
He pressed his wrist to Tess's lips again, parting them with the fingers of his blood by mild force. It wasn't happening. Dante's eyes stung as he stare ~ Lara Adrian

It occurs to me, lass, that I saved you from a much worse fate than I knew by rescuing you from Dumbarton and from Dougal. He would have made you a terrible husband."
"No worse than most, I expect," she said, still eyeing the crags.
"Nonsense, even I would make a better husband than Dougal, had I any wish yet to marry. You might at least admit that much."
She stiffened, thrusting her plump bosom out enticingly. "I have no desire to marry Dougal, as you ken fine," she said. "Nor do I want to marry you. You are both, albeit in different ways, equally objectionable to me as husbands."
"Now I am stung," he declared, affecting great indignation. "You have made your disapproval of me clear since you were eight years old. But, other than a too-frequent accusation of recklessness, which I dispute, what fault do you find in me?"

So sorely tempted was Lina to list his faults for him that she had to bite her tongue to keep the words from flying off it. ~ Amanda Scott

On a day like today I am stung by the splendor of a sudden thought. ~ Robert Browning

When the present stung her, she sought her antidote in the future, which was as sure to hold achievement as the dying flower to hold the fruit when its petals wither. ~ Elspeth Huxley

The problem isn't just that some people are overfed and others are underfed, lacking enough basic calories to ward off gnawing hunger (though that still remains a real and brutal problem). The new difficulty is that billions of people across the globe are simultaneously overfed and undernourished: rich in calories but poor in nutrients. Our new global diet is replete with sugar and refined carbohydrates yet lacking in crucial micronutrients such as iron and trace vitamins. Malnutrition is no longer just about hunger and stunting; it is also about obesity. ~ Bee Wilson

The air was alive with yellow wasps. We must have stepped on a wasps' nest in a rotten branch as we walked. And while I was running up the hill, my dad stayed and got stung, to give me time to run away. ~ Neil Gaiman

The bee is more honored than other animals, not because she labors, but because she labors for others. ~ Saint John Chrysostom

In theory, food writing is an aid or a prelude to actual meals: you read a recipe, and then you cook. In practice - in a 'paradox' that Michael Pollan, among others, has identified - our current gastronomic fantasies, particularly on TV, have coincided with a decline in home cooking. ~ Bee Wilson

So why didn't I switch schools? The other good schools I could have sent Bee to ... well, to get to them, I'd have to drive past a Buca di Beppo. I hated my life enough without having to drive past a Buca di Beppo four times a day. ~ Maria Semple

of the scorpion and the frog? The frog carried the scorpion on its back as they crossed the river. The scorpion stung the frog, and as they both were drowning, the frog asked the scorpion why he'd done it." "Because I'm a scorpion, ~ Skye Warren

When a bee stings, she dies. She cannot sting and live. When men sting, their better selves die. Every sting kills a better instinct. Men must not turn bees and kill themselves in stinging others. ~ Francis Bacon

I look away from him, replying sarcastically, Well, you can tell JT and Pete for me that the next time they hold a knitting bee and gossip circle, I could use a new sweater! ~ Amy A. Bartol

When the short days of winter came, dusk fell before we had well eaten our dinners. When we met in the street the houses had grown sombre. The space of sky above us was the colour of ever-changing violet and towards it the lamps of the street lifted their feeble lanterns. The cold air stung us and we played till our bodies glowed. Our shouts echoed in the silent street. ~ James Joyce

Then it occurred to her (Elizabeth Keckley) that if Tad (Lincoln's son) had been a colored boy rather than the son of a president, and a teacher had found him so difficult to instruct, he would have been ridiculed as a dunce and held up as evidence of the inferiority of the entire race. Tad was bright; Elizabeth knew that well, and she was sure that with proper instruction and hard work, a glimmer of his father's genius would show in him too. But Elizabeth knew many black boys Tad's age who could read and write beautifully, and yet the myth of inferiority persisted. The unfairness of the assumptions stung. If a white child appeared dull, the entire race was deemed unintelligent. It seemed to Elizabeth that if one race should not judged by a single example, then neither should any other. ~ Jennifer Chiaverini

When we lament the decline of time spent on cooking, we need to be clear what it is that we are lamenting. Many of the female cooks who devoted so many hours to preparing food in the past did so because they did not think their own time was worth much. ~ Bee Wilson

When we say we are lacking in the time to eat well, what we often mean is that we lack synchronised time to eat. Our days and weeks are broken up with constant interruptions and meals are no longer taken communally and in unison, but are a cacophony of individual collations snatched here and there, with no company but the voices in our headphones. Many of us, to our own annoyance, are trapped in routines in which eating well seems all but impossible. Yet this is partly because we live in a world that places a higher premium on time than it does on food. ~ Bee Wilson

Hope is the only bee that makes honey without flowers. ~ Robert Green Ingersoll

Mercer opens hi mouth to argue, and Bastion Banister chooses this moment to open his mouth and snap at the circling bee. To his own evident surprise, he captures it, and there's a curious little glonking noise as he swallows it whole. Mercer cringes slightly, as if expecting the dog to explode.
Nothing happens.
"All right," Polly Cradle says, and then, pro forma, "Bastion, you're a very naughty boy."
"Yes," Mercer says acidly. "The dog has consumed a possibly lethal technological device of immense sophistication, deprived us of our only piece of tangible evidence and possibly doomed us all to some sort of arcane scientific retaliative strike. By all means, chide him severely with your voice. That will solve everyone's problems. ~ Nick Harkaway

Frankie had used one (reverently) to wipe his eyes.This specimen was old and soft,monogrammed with a J in the corner. "Makes it interesting," he told me once, after finding a box monogrammed with M for fifty cents at a sidewalk sale. "Was it Max or Michael? Maybe Marco..."
"Here," he said now. "You have lipstick halfway down to your chin."
Humiliated, I scrubbed at my face.
Frankie held out his hand, palm up. "Okay,let's have it." I pulled the tube out of my pocket. "Not really my thing, madam, but since I've seen what happens when you don't use a mirror..." I'm sure it helped that he was holding my face, but he read it like a pro. "You had a mirror."
"I did.I'm hopeless."
"Maybe.Open." He squinted as he filled in my upper lip. "I don't like this."
"The color? I knew it was too pink-"
"Quiet.You'll smear it.The color is fine. Better for Sienna, I'm sure..." He surveyed his handiwork. "I don't like that you're doing this for him."
"Don't start. I told you how nice he was."
"In excruciating detail."
Given, the post-Bainbridge family dinner e-mail to Frankie and Sadie had been long. But excrutiating stung, especially from the boy who'd used every possible synonym for hot in describing his Friday-night bookstore acquisition. No name, just detailed hotness and the play-by-play of their flirtation over the fantasy section. ~ Melissa Jensen

They WERE walking alongside the road, they WERE hit by a car, and now they ARE dead. It doesn't work. Are is present tense. Dead is
well, dead is past, isn't it? Present tense modifying past; being modifying non-being. Language, in this instance"
and here Miriam makes a garbled noise in her throat
"fails. ~ Myla Goldberg

Five thousand years have added no improvement to the hive of the bee, nor to the house of the beaver; but look at the habitations and the achievements of men! ~ Charles Caleb Colton

I wake sometimes in the dark terrified by my life's precariousness, its thready breath. Beside me, my husband's pulse beats at his throat; in their beds, my children's skin shows every faintest scratch. A breeze would blow them over, and the world is filled with more than breezes: diseases and disasters, monsters and pain in a thousand variations. I do not forget either my father and his kind hanging over us, bright and sharp as swords, aimed at our tearing flesh. If they do not fall on us in spite and malice, then they will fall by accident or whim. My breath fights in my throat. How can I live on beneath such a burden of doom? I rise then and go to my herbs. I create something, I transform something. My witchcraft is as strong as ever, stronger. This too is good fortune. How many have such power and leisure and defense as I do? Telemachus comes from our bed to find me. He sits with me in the greensmelling darkness, holding my hand. Our faces are both lined now, marked with our years. Circe, he says, it will be all right. It is not the saying of an oracle or a prophet. They are words you might speak to a child. I have heard him say them to our daughters, when he rocked them back to sleep from a nightmare, when he dressed their small cuts, soothed whatever stung. His skin is familiar as my own beneath my fingers. I listen to his breath, warm upon the night air, and somehow I am comforted. He does not mean it does not hurt. He does not mean we are not frightened. Only that: we ~ Madeline Miller

I like vocal word stuff. But I don't always write with an instrument, I usually write a capella. It's more like drawing in the air with your fingers. It's closest to the choreography of a bee. You're freer. ~ Tom Waits

I am ashamed of the race of beings to which I belong. It is so cruel and bigoted, so hypocritical, so soulless and insane. I would rather be an insect ... a bee or a butterfly ... and float in dim dreams among the wild-flowers of summer than be a man and feel the horrible and ghastly wrongs and sufferings of this wretched world. ~ J. Howard Moore

Not she with trait'rous kiss her Saviour stung, Not she denied him with unholy tongue; She, while apostles shrank, could danger brave, Last at his cross and earliest at his grave. ~ Eaton Stannard Barrett

I am brave," Will said ...
"Yes, you are," Magnus said, and kissed him. It wasn't the most dramatic kiss, but Will failed his free arm as if a bee had landed on him; Magnus had to hope Camille would assume this was passion. When they broke apart, Will looked stunned. So did Camille, for that matter.
...
Will swung sideways ... He dashed across the room, retrieved it, and tucked it into Magnus's waistcoat pocket. Then, with a wink at Camille that, Magnus thought, God alone knew how she would interpret, he sauntered out of the room. ~ Cassandra Clare

If it wasn't for what goes on in the world of politics, we wouldn't really have much of a show. ~ Samantha Bee

It was the last time I stood beside my brother, the last time he held my flank and I his. For a time, then . . .'and his voice fell away, 'we were happy.' Though Torrent knew nothing of these Wars of Shadow, nor the other players involved, he could not but hear the sorrow in Ruin's voice, and it stung him deep inside. Fucking regrets. ~ Steven Erikson