And all the insects ceased in honor of the moon.

The remarkable thing about the world of insects, however, is precisely that there is no veil cast over these horrors. These are mysteries performed in broad daylight before our very eyes; we can see every detail, and yet they are still mysteries. If, as Heraclitus suggests, god, like an oracle, neither —declares nor hides, but sets forth by signs,— then clearly I had better be scrying the signs. The earth devotes an overwhelming proportion of its energy to these buzzings and leaps in the grass. Theirs is the biggest wedge of the pie: Why? I ought to keep a giant water bug in an aquarium on my dresser, so I can think about it.

Butterflies ... not quite birds, as they are not quite flowers, mysterious and fascinating as are all indeterminate creatures.

What would be left of our tragedies if an insect were to present us his?

What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly.

The ant is knowing and wise, but he doesn't know enough to take a vacation.

If all mankind were to disappear, the world would regenerate back to the rich state of equilibrium that existed ten thousand years ago. If insects were to vanish, the environment would collapse into chaos.

Ants are so much like human beings as to be an embarrassment. They farm fungi, raise aphids as livestock, launch armies into war, use chemical sprays to alarm and confuse enemies, capture slaves, engage in child labor, exchange information ceaselessly. They do everything but watch television.

Nothing seems to please a fly so much as to be taken for a currant; and if it can be baked in a cake and palmed off on the unwary, it dies happy.

A fly is as untamable as a hyena.

If Noah had been very wise, he would have swatted those two flies.

Worms have played a more important part in the history of the world than humans would at first suppose.