Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Infested. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Infested Quotes And Sayings by 95 Authors including Allen Tate,Courtney Summers,F Scott Fitzgerald,Patrick F. Mcmanus,Lauren Oliver for you to enjoy and share.
The dreary flies, lazy and casual,
Stick to the ceiling, buzz along the wall.
O heart, the spider shuffles from the mould
Weaving, between the pinks and grapes, his pall.
The infected give chase and I won't look back, can't. Hearing them is enough, a cacophony of breathless shrieking that all means one thing: mine, mine, mine.
A squalid phantasmagoria of breath
What a tourist terms a plague of insects, the fly fisher calls a great hatch.
An itchy feeling began to work its way through my body, as though a thousand mosquitoes were circulating through my blood, biting me from the inside, making me want to scream, jump, squirm.
I ran.
Bug on the wall.
Felt for a minute frightened by the jungle, its voracious appetite and ambition, its hunger to consume every surface it encountered.
We were all nomads once, and crossed the deserts and the seas on tracks that could not be detected, but were clear to those who knew the way. Since settling down and rooting like trees, but without the ability to make use of the wind to scatter our seed, we have found only infection and discontent.
I'm like a fungus; you can't get rid of me.
found three thousand Unsullied
Astonishingly slimy and dangerous
My mind is full of hornets.
All that is loathsome, drooping, or decayed is here.
In seasons of pestilence, some of us will have a secret attraction to the disease
a terrible passing inclination to die of it.
In the apartment, the answering machine blinked fiercely, two gnats drag-raced around the apparently sweet, rotting hole of the kitchen drain, and life was difficult once again, and familiar, and a disappointment.
The indolent mind is not empty, but full of vermin.
A sickness known as hate; not a virus, not a microbe, not a germ - but a sickness nonetheless, highly contagious, deadly in its effects. Don't look for it in the Twilight Zone - look for it in a mirror. Look for it before the light goes out altogether.
Flies, worms, and flowers exceed me still.
The war has jerked us pretty sharply into consciousness about this slug-a-bed sin of Sloth, and perhaps we need not say too much about it. But two warnings are rather necessary.
Fall has arrived and has already begun to put everything into a deep sleep; flies and other insects have suffered their first setback, and up in the trees and down on the ground you can hear the sounds of struggling life, puttering , ceaselessly rustling, laboring not to perish.
In ecological terms, we are almost paradoxical: large-bodied and long-lived but grotesquely abundant. We are an outbreak.
EXTERMINATE!!!!!!!!!!!!Exterminate-- Dalek
The wind and the rain, gives this place a gleam that just isn't natural. And the ground, alive with crawling things, crawling death.
You have slipped under my skin, invaded my blood, and seized my heart. You have poisoned me.
A new disease? I know not, new or old, but it may well be called poor mortals plague for, like a pestilence, it doth infect the houses of the brain till not a thought, or motion, in the mind, be free from the black poison of suspect.
In the soil too fat and happy, the praying mantises too pious and too plentiful,
The bats inebriate the sky . . .
I have become infected, now that I see how beautifully a book is coming out of all this.
All seems infected that th' infected spy,
As all looks yellow to the jaundiced eye.
Negativity. Mankind's most widespread plague.
When an animal is infected, either naturally or by experimental injection, with a bacterium, virus, or other foreign body, the animal recognises this as an invader and acts in such a way as to remove or destroy it.
Standing before him, the blight of idyllic thought and aspiration--rotting souls reproducing like fleas.
Oh, stow your whids, you dreary watering-pot,
A bush-warbler,
Coming to the verandah-edge,
Left its droppings
On the rice-cakes.
Something has gotten into me; something I didn't want. The moment my skin touched hers, it overwhelmed me with desires of the deepest kind. It's crawled beneath my flesh, and my every pore is infected by her. An addiction that is as frustrating as this illness.
Your trench. The lice were "chats," the food was
The house had not merely lapsed back into the equilibrium of the woods but was blighted, as if inside it did not contain a hearth and a chair and a bed but my cankered heart.
The city is a plague ... and I am the penicillin.
I'm covered in bees!
Sounds buzz around me, and I'm sure the painted dragonflies have come loose from the frieze on our walls to flap their wings in my ears, making my skin prickle and crawl as tides of sickness wash me away.
Scummer, pox and wound rot!" roared Tunstall, slamming his fist down on the bed. "Gods cursed the pig-tarsed mammering craven currish beef-witted bum-licking gut-griping louts that did this to me! May every flea, leech and hookworm in all creation find and feast upon them!
WEEDS AND NETTLES, BRIARS AND THORNS, HAVE THRIVEN UNDER YOUR SHADOW, DISSETTLEMENT AND DIVISION, DISCONTENTMENT AND DISSATISFACTION, TOGETHER WITH REAL DANGERS TO THE WHOLE.
There is today a frightful disappearance of living species, be they plants or animals. And it's clear that the density of human beings has become so great, if I can say so, that they have begun to poison themselves. And the world in which I am finishing my existence is no longer a world that I like.
Something ignoble, loathsome, undignified attends all associations between people and has been transferred to all objects, dwelling, tools, even the landscape itself.
I am the outcast come home to roost and the eggs of tomorrow are incubating in my fame. You hate me, you love me, you made me, and now I am in you. I am like that disease brewing in your loins and I think you like it ...
Harpies, n. A disease transmitted to humans by birds with human faces.
A hollow edifice erected for the habitation of man, rat, mouse, beetle, cockroach, fly, mosquito, flea, bacillus, and microbe.
THE ADVENTURE OF THE CREEPING MAN
Men were springing up, a black avenging host was slowly germinating in the furrows, thrusting upward for the harvests of future ages. And very soon their germination would crack the earth asunder.
We have descended into the garden and caught three hundred slugs. How I love the mixture of the beautiful and the squalid in gardening. It makes it so lifelike.
Beached under the spumy blooms, we lie
Sea-sick and fever-dry.
In a crowd we are "microbes" infecting everyone around us, a "grain of sand amid other grains of sand, which the wind stirs up at will." We are impulsive, irritable, irrational:
But what does it mean, the plague? It's life, that's all.
This part of Alabama is swampy, with mosquitoes that could murder a buffalo, given half a chance, not to mention dangerous flying roaches and a posse of local rats big enough to haul a wagon train from here to Timbuctoo.
Disappeared like fog in a stiff morning breeze, teen revilers when a squad car creeps up the driveway, roaches when the kitchen light comes on.
One can summon courage and fortitude to face tragedy; irritations and frustrations are a cloud of mosquitoes that nip and sting and drive one frantic.
discombobulated around
How to spell Aedes aegypti,the world's one-stop, viral-disease-transmitting mosquito: T-R-O-U-B-L-E.
Every sickness has an alien quality, a feeling of invasion and loss of control that is evident in the language we use about it.
There is a rowdy strain in American life, living close to the surface but running very deep. Like an ape behind a mask, it can display itself suddenly with terrifying effect.
Disease Carrying thoughts swarm and multiply in the dark and twisted labyrinths of our minds, and all that is needed is a mob and a good political slogan for the epidemic to be spread once again, with a burst of automatic weapons or a mushroom cloud.
The vegetation has crawled mile for mile towards the towns. It is waiting. When the town dies, the Vegetation will invade it, it will clamber over the stones, it will grip them, search them, burst them open with its long black pincers; it will bind the holes and hang its green paws everywhere.
garden. I have been defeated,
My anxiety house a house and a fence and a deer in the yard. A zip code. A plague of starlings.
It was a musty sweet smell. "Is this plague city?
Bugs lurk in corners and congregate at boundaries.
Everybody knows that pestilences have a way of recurring in the world; yet somehow we find it hard to believe in ones that crash down on our heads from a blue sky. There have been as many plagues as wars in history; yet always plagues and wars take people equally by surprise.
Strikes deeper, grows with more pernicious root.
There is a tale ... It tells of the days when a blight hung over our land. Nothing prospered. Nothing flourished. Not even zucchini would grow.
Millions of human vermin swarm sweating along the night-arched cavernous roads. (Happily rapid chemical processes will disintegrate them all.
Boring damned people. All over the earth. Propagating more boring damned people. What a horror show. The earth swarmed with them.
Over the whole earth- this infinitely small globe that possesses all we know of sunshine and bird song- an unfamiliar blight is creeping: man- man, who has become at last a planetary disease and who would, if his technology yet permitted, pass this infection to another star.
The caterpillars of the commonwealth,
Which I have sworn to weed and pluck away.
We stepped carefully, so softly, over thorny plants. The dust had turned to mud, splattering our shoes, socks, and legs. By the time we reached the boat, our clothes were clinging to our flesh and stained with the bloody remains of mosquitoes.
The absent feel and fear every ill.
A man with a machine and inadequate culture is a pestilence.
Avalanche of foreigners. The house was suddenly filled with
In my medicine cabinet, the winter fly has died of old age.
They had puddled in the floorboards and they poured out onto the pavement like the jackpot from the Devil's slot machine, the bugs raining down with a sound like frying bacon.
Thy food is such
As hath been belch'd on by infected lungs.
Sandworms ... you know I hate 'em!
The sluggard is a living insensible.
The thrush called strangeness into the sunset.
There is often something poisonous in the air of public rooms,
Life in this village is like that of a louse hanging on to a wrinkle in a loincloth.
It's this place. Whatever darkness came to the island, it's here to stay. Stick around long enough and it gets inside your skin, into your cells, like an infection.
Every morning there were silver snail trails crisscrossing the hall. There were cobwebs like soft clouds and pepperings of mold at the windowsills. The moor was coming inside.
Even within the most beautiful landscape, in the trees, under the leaves the insects are eating each other; violence is a part of life.
Sick to my motherf****** tummy!
The earth is attempting to rid itself of an infection by human parasite.
SPIIIIIDERS!" The world ceased its turning. The owl went dumb. The Milky Way flickered on the verge of extinction. Ben hollered it again: "Spiders!" He started thrashing wildly amid the pine needles. "They're all over me!
Why is everything trying to eat me?Eat-- Eighty Six
Germs contagious, contagious alert!
But Edwart and Purell are stronger than dirt!
Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth.
So, to their own unutterable torment, they go about among their fellow-creatures, looking pure as new-fallen snow, while their hearts are all speckled and spotted with iniquity of which they cannot rid themselves.
The mosquitos are so big they eat you alive wear your shoes.
Your planet's immune system is trying to get rid of you.
Some morbidity in me attracts mosquitoes
There is no time like Spring
When life's alive in everything,
Before new nestlings sing,
Before cleft swallows speed their journey back
Along the trackless track.
People, she was discovering, were like cockroaches: If you allowed one in, more were sure to follow.