Quotes About Spiders

Monkey bar, Annabeth said. I'm great at these. She leaped onto to the first rung and start swinging her way across. She was scared of tiny spiders, but not of plummeting to her death from a set of monkey bars. Go figure.

It is a tale that begins, as it will end, in a graveyard where the bones and the spiders and the worms inhabit the cold earth.

I don't know how they catch the birds. I know the Goliath Fucking Bird-Eating Spider can't fly because if it could, it would have a different name entirely. We would call it "sir" because it would be the dominant species on the planet. None of us would leave the house unless a Goliath Fucking Flying Bird-Eating Spider said it was okay.

These old eyes of mine barely see your hands on the table. Illuminated by this candlelight, they look like yellow spiders. Still, they're finely wrought Jewish hands. Whatever they hold, shall not easily be relinquished.

with their mouth open they'll eat an average of five spiders a night, which is kind of believable if you think about it. Another time Rodrick told me that it's dangerous to wake someone up when they're sleepwalking. I thought there could be a chance he was actually telling the truth, because I'm pretty sure I heard that one somewhere else. ZZZZZ

Hansel and Gretel had breadcrumbs, she had plastic spiders. Worst-case scenario, she could find her way back by following the trail of dead birds that had choked on them.

They did not, however, bring the necessary equipment for killing spiders.

Did you know there's a place under the stairs in the East Wing that's full of spiders that died during the Nixon administration? Do you think that's true? I don't think that's true," she said without really waiting for Charlie to answer. "I could ask Dad," Maddie went on. "But he didn't work here then. At least I don't think he worked here then. I mean, I know he's old. Like, really, really old. But is he that old?

Most spiders eat and remake their webs every night.

The bugs are not like us. The Pseudo-Arachnids aren't even like spiders. They are arthropods who happen to look like a madman's conception of a giant intelligent spider, but their organization, psychological and economic, is more like that of ants or termites; they are communal entities, the ultimate dictatorship of the hive.

And she arose from her deathbed in a gossamer gown, with eyes the color of starlight and hair as black as the night. And those who were her captors trembled, for the scent of death and madness emanated from her soul, and yet she was not dead. She moved like the spiders that creep in the treetops, and none could look away. Taking her first captor in hand, she fed deep and ravenous. And so it was that Myst, Queen of the Indigo Court, was born from the blood of the dead.

Did you know, and this is a fact here, did you know that most spiders are ugly? It's true. The woman spiders have it really hard time of it. I saw it on a documentary. Why do you think the Black Widow kills the guy she mates with? Shame, that's why - Tanith Low

You're not afraid of spiders, are you?" "I tend to get slightly arachnophobic when they're three times the size of me.

I don't share lots of the phobias that horror movies tap into. I don't mind spiders or snakes or darkness.

I do sometimes joke that I'm Tarzan and Ben's Jane when it comes to dealing with spiders or if there's dead things in the garden.

Their souls were contagious. ... Bloodsuckers, spiders and vampires: that was what Lenin called them.

The dichotomy between innate and learned fear is actually a bit fuzzy.19 Everyone knows that humans are innately afraid of snakes and spiders. But some people keep them as pets, give them cute names.fn13 Instead of inevitable fear, we show "prepared learning"—learning to be afraid of snakes and spiders more readily than of pandas or beagles.

I'm delirious. Spots are crawling before my eyes." "Those are spiders.

What I don't understand is how women can pour hot wax on their bodies, let it dry, then rip out every single hair by its root and still be scared of spiders.

Don't worry, spiders, I keep house casually.

I saw the spiders marching through the air, Swimming from tree to tree that mildewed day In latter August when the hay Came creaking to the barn. But where The wind is westerly, Where gnarled November makes the spiders fly Into the apparitions of the sky, They purpose nothing but their ease and die Urgently beating east to sunrise and the sea;

Given the nature of spiders, webs are inevitable. And given the nature of human beings, so are religions. Spiders can't help making fly-traps, and men can't help making symbols. That's what the human brain is there for - the turn the chaos of given experience into a set of manageable symbols.

We neither encourage nor discourage. We accept it. Accept it as we accept that spider web up there on the cornice. Given the nature of spiders, webs are inevitable. And given the nature of human beings, so are religions. Spiders can't help making symbols. That's what the human brain is there for - to turn the choad of given experience into a set of manageable symbols.

For a moment, I believe, there was a stillness. A shocking realization by all things - beetles, dormice, the spiders spinning their webs in the moonlight, even the hot metal of the tracks and the wind in the trees - that Death had just shrieked past like a stinking black eagle and made off with a remarkable man.