Swarm Like Flies Quotes & Sayings

I never camped as a kid, but I really got into camping and sleeping outdoors. I've also done some amazing river floats in New Mexico and Idaho. It's peaceful and awesome. — Conor Oberst

[It] could be argued that the favorite sin of Satan would not be vanity, as described in 'Devil's Advocate', or even unbelief in the existence of the devil, as described in 'The Usual Suspects,' but the imagining of a generic, Christless God. The very essence of the Christian faith centers on the identity of Jesus Christ as God's only begotten Son, who alone is the source of salvation and author of faith (Acts 4:12). So it stands to reason that Satan's favorite sin is the belief in a God without Jesus, because that is a god without atonement or redemption and that is what populates hell in the name of heaven. — Brian Godawa

It was very hard for me to practice and enjoy my tennis, and I didn't know the why, so I worked with psychologists to try and see what was happening. They pushed me really hard. — Gabriela Sabatini

A love astounds us or a pain consumes us and we forget that we glow on our own. — Mark Nepo

I could never free myself from the thought that Nature is that which is slowly killing me. — Charles Simic

Under a low sun, pursued by fish and mounted by crows and veiled in a loud swarm of bluebottle flies, the body comes down the river like a deadfall stripped clean. — Jon Clinch

I do not need love now, I needed it while I was down and the majority of the faces that are showing up, were not anywhere to be found when I really needed their support. Now they swarm like flies. — D. Hunter

Fear-addled minds swarm around conspiracies like flies around something foul. — Raul Ramos Y Sanchez

This is America, not a banana republic. — Vincent Bugliosi

So yesterday the high-ranking visitors came after all. . . H[immler} at their head. A slight, insignificant-looking little man, with a rather good-humored face. High peaked cap, mustache, and small spectacles. I think: If you wanted to trace back all the misery and horror to just one person, it would have to be him. Around him a lot of fellows with weary faces. Very big, heavily dressed men, they swerve along whichever way he turns, like a swarm of flies, changing places among themselves (they don't stand still for a moment) and moving like a single whole. It makes a fatally alarming impression. (January 30, 1944) — David Koker

Many a night I saw the Pleiads,
Rising thro' the mellow shade,
Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies,
Tangled in a silver braid. — Alfred Lord Tennyson

The great motherhood friendships are the ones in which two women can admit [how difficult mothering is] quietly to each other, over cups of tea at a table sticky with spilled apple juice and littered with markers without tops. — Anna Quindlen

Wipe your glasses with what you know. — James Joyce

Daydreaming is one of the key sources of poetry - a poem often starts as a daydream that finds its way into language - and walking seems to bring a different sort of alertness, an associative kind of thinking, a drifting state of mind. — Edward Hirsch

Don't you see, Katniss, this will decide things. One way or the other. By the end of the day, they'll ether be dead or with us. It's ... it's more than we could hope for!
Well, that's a sunny view of our situation. — Suzanne Collins

Why did you make only one of me? It's going to be lonely being me. — Olaf Stapledon

If I'm writing for a particular artist, I definitely think about their past records, pay attention to the type of tempos that they like. If I have the privilege of actually being in the session with the artist, I just like to have a conversation with them. — Sevyn Streeter

I started writing poetry because language was how I understood the world. It was a paradigm that made everything matter and in forms that were safe to hold what I felt. — Grace Cavalieri

We dont know Gods plan, but we do know were pretty blessed and God expects us to do something with that. — Catherine Hicks

out-of-doors there was quite a snow-storm. "It is the white bees that are swarming," said Kay's old grandmother. "Do the white bees choose a queen?" asked the little boy; for he knew that the honey-bees always have one. "Yes," said the grandmother, "she flies where the swarm hangs in the thickest clusters. She is the largest of all; and she can never remain quietly on the earth, but goes up again into the black clouds. Many a winter's night she flies through the streets of the town, and peeps in at the windows; and they then freeze in so wondrous a manner that they look like flowers. — Hans Christian Andersen