Ants Love Quotes & Sayings

At night she'd close her eyes and imagine: over a hundred million billion insects hatching and dying every year - all those bristling, pointed, winged lifetimes: murderers and egg raiders, cooperators and queens. There were the glamorous dragonflies and fearsome widows; slave-holding ants; migrating monarchs; the delicate mantid chewing down her lover; dragonflies making love at thirty miles an hour - all the flagships of entomology. But — Anthony Doerr

In that latitude the temperature flirted with a hundred degrees for a few of the dog days, but to a child it can hardly ever be too hot. I liked the sun licking the backs of my legs, and the sweat between my shoulder blades, and the violet evenings, with ice cream and fireflies, wherein the long day slowly cooled. I liked the ants piling up dirt like coffee grounds between the bricks of our front walk, and the milkweed spittle in the vacant lot next door. I liked the freedom of shorts, sneakers, and striped T-shirt, with freckles and a short hot-weather haircut.
We love easily in summer, perhaps, because we love our summer selves. — John Updike

Learn from the ants- how a tiny heart is big enough to love, help and care about another living existence. — Munia Khan

The flower and fruit of love are mine The ant, the fieldmouse and the mole — Stevie Smith

He was in love with life as an ant on a summer blade of grass. — Ben Hecht

AFTER BEING IN LOVE, THE NEXT RESPONSIBILITY
Turn me like a waterwheel turning a millstone.
Plenty of water, a Living River.
Keep me in one place and scatter the love.
Leaf-moves in wind, straw drawn toward amber,
all parts of the world are in love,
but they do not tell their secrets. Cows grazing
on a sacramental table, ants whispering in Solomon's ear.
Mountains mumbling an echo. Sky, calm.
If the sun were not in love, he would have no brightness,
the side of the hill no grass on it.
The ocean would come to rest somewhere.
Be a lover as they are, that you come to know
you Beloved. Be faithful that you may know
Faith. The other parts of the universe did not accept
the next responsibility of love as you can.
They were afraid they might make a mistake
with it, the inspired knowing
that springs from being in love — Rumi

I was a senior in high school when I decided I wanted to work on ants as a career. I just fell in love with them, and have never regretted it. — E. O. Wilson

It is so dark now with the sadness of
people
they were tricked, they were taught to expect the
ultimate when nothing is
promised
now young girls weep alone in small rooms
old men angrily swing their canes at
visions as
ladies comb their hair as
ants search for survival
history surrounds us
and our lives
slink away
in
shame. — Charles Bukowski

The Bull Ants love to eat other small insects, as well as seeds, sweet nectar and fruit. — Leanne Annett

Love is like a picnic without ants, pleasant for a while, but sooner or later something's definitely getting squashed. — Frances Winkler

I am telling him
what he wants to hear: ants
dying of love under
the constellation of the dandelion.
I swear that a white rose,
sprinkled with wine, sings.
I am laughing, tilting
my head carefully
as if checking an invention.
I am dancing, dancing
in astonished skin, in
an embrace that creates me. — Wislawa Szymborska

This world is beautiful but badly broken. St. Paul said that it groans, but I love it even in its groaning. I love this round stage where we act out the tragedies and the comedies of history. I love it with all of its villains and petty liars and self-righteous pompers. I love the ants and the laughter of wide-eyed children encountering their first butterfly. I love it as it is, because it is a story, and it isn't stuck in one place. It is full of conflict and darkness like every good story. And like every good story, there will be an ending. I love the world as it is, because I love what it will be. I love it because it spins and tilts, because it's dizzying, because of the night sky and the swirling lights. But I have run too far ahead. We should be more ... philosophical. — N.D. Wilson

What was she like, this Laure who enjoyed having lunch in the garden, was frightened of red ants, dremt she was making love to her pet which had been transformed into a man, and had a signed Patrick Modiano?

She was an enigma. It was like looking at someone through a fogged-up window. her face was like one encountered in a dream, whose features disolve as soon as you try to recall them. — Antoine Laurain

Just saw two ants drown together in my bathtub and it reminded me of us: a love story. — Melissa Broder

Let your little inspires someone greatly and greatly be the reasons for the smiles of someone in little things. Dare to help someone. Dare to be the reasons for somebody's little smile! Remember, it doesn't necessarily take too much to make much impact! Remember, it is our little food remains that make the ants get food in season and out of season! Remember, somewhere, it is much of the waste and less of the precious meals meant for our tables that makes the pig grows fatter! Dare to make a noble impact with your noble substance, no matter how big or small it is! Dare to cause a change that will forever be remembered, be it small or big! Dare to be the real reason for the relief of somebody. Their hearts await your impact! Their joy awaits your ignition! Take a step! Make real impact! — Ernest Agyemang Yeboah

All we want, whether we are honeybees, salmon, trash-collecting ants, ponderosa pines, coyotes, human beings, or stars, is to love and be loved, to be accepted, cherished, and celebrated simply for being who we are. Is that so very difficult? — Derrick Jensen

And I stood there and took it because I was an object. We were all objects to Marcus McCoy. — Shaun David Hutchinson

And real talk, like, seeing these ants and studying them and respecting them, it's like, man, they're in their own community too. They're trying to survive. They love. They fight. They telling themselves something. We can't understand, but one day we will. — Brandon McCartney

Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge
that pass all the argument of the earth,
And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my
own,
And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own,
And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the
women my sisters and lovers,
And that a kelson of the creation is love,
And limitless are leaves stiff or drooping in the fields,
And brown ants in the little wells beneath them,
And mossy scabs of the worm fence, heap'd stones, elder,
mullein and poke-weed. — Walt Whitman

Writing analogies are as abundant as ants at a picnic. We love nothing better than a good analogy, a "life-is-like-this" on the page. I breathe and out pops another analogy. As of this moment, I am sole owner of 1,643 analogies. — Chila Woychik

I'll affect you slowly
as if you were having a picnic in a dream.
There will be no ants.
It won't rain. — Richard Brautigan

I love the old stuff that's why I included it. I did see them play a lot as they supported the Banshees all the time. And I was a friend of the Banshees so I used to get there early to see the Ants and while the Banshees were on I used to like to go in their dressing room and steal their booze! — Marco Pirroni

Late Echo"

Alone with our madness and favorite flower
We see that there really is nothing left to write about.
Or rather, it is necessary to write about the same old things
In the same way, repeating the same things over and over
For love to continue and be gradually different.

Beehives and ants have to be re-examined eternally
And the color of the day put in
Hundreds of times and varied from summer to winter
For it to get slowed down to the pace of an authentic
Saraband and huddle there, alive and resting.

Only then can the chronic inattention
Of our lives drape itself around us, conciliatory
And with one eye on those long tan plush shadows
That speak so deeply into our unprepared knowledge
Of ourselves, the talking engines of our day. — John Ashbery

People are not ants or bees. We do not reason or love or live or die collectively. — P. J. O'Rourke