Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Molds. 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 Molds Quotes And Sayings by 95 Authors including Dennis Vickers,Chuck Palahniuk,Anonymous,Lauren Destefano,Elle Valentine for you to enjoy and share.
Spurting out like formula from a colicky baby's mouth, drops ejected from boiled frosting boiling, preliminary spurts from Old Faithful before the earthquake.
Everything wooden swells and shrinks, and the nails in everything wooden, the floors and baseboards and window casings, the nails inch out and rust. Everywhere there are rusted nails to step on or snag your elbow on, and there's only one bathroom for the seven
Quiz 1. Leeuwenhoek saw microorganisms in (a) polio sufferers (b) belly button fuzz (c) malaria victims (d) dental plaque
Kettle thingies. Yum.
What's on the inside, beneath that sugar? Is it a bug? Is it a booger?
Cheese, where you takes liquid from a cow lady's business parts, mix it with a bit o' juices from a baby cow's fourth stomach and then let it grow all fuzzy-moldy for a few years, eh?
The walls of the arch are covered with blood-red jellies that wink and glisten at me by the light of the moon. My father told me they were completely harmless. I don't believe him. Nothing is completely harmless.
What molds us is what maims us.
Monster. Help. Popsicle scary
Our body is a moulded river
A most malicious cough
One may be clogged with honey and unable to rise and fly.
Diseases desperate grown,
By desperate appliance are relieved,
Or not at all.
The thrush called strangeness into the sunset.
On my way home, I noticed a few mushrooms that had sprung up after the rain. They were perfect and intact because everyone knew they were poisonous.
spills of mire I swallowed inside the tower
My prime interests are in evolution and development. I use the cellular slime molds as a tool to seek an understanding of those twin disciplines.
Albumen, and made other foul-smelling things into
Your kind has a superstitious terror of things ugly and broken; you fear that their condition may somehow infect you.
...He was succeeded by a gentleman who gazed at the Brussels sprouts and asked if the funny little knobs on the stalks were a form of disease. I told him yes. Eczema.
Ill natures, the more you aske them, the more they stick.
The jam had filled the courtyard and foyer and pushed the water out of the swimming pool. Where it touched the walls, little tendrils snaked their way upwards like searching fingers. There was an overpowering stench of strawberries.
I have maggots in my scrotum.
Who are you, who is so wise in the way of alien fungus?
rashers of bacon.
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.
This is the first book edition. Without the mold it would have cost me twice as much." "You've
Cheese. The adult form of milk.
Attend to mushrooms and all other things will answer up.
It was astonishing that for some considerable distance around the mould growth the staphococcal colonies were undergoing lysis. What had formerly been a well-grown colony was now a faint shadow of its former self ... I was sufficiently interested to pursue the subject.
Gregor was involved with something called Volatile Fungus Deportation.
The skin of moss / holds the footprints of / star-footed birds.
His breath smelled like bananas and moldy feet.
Here on the drawing board fingers and noses leak from the air brush maggots lie under if i should die before if i should die in the back room stacked up in smooth boxes like soapflakes or tunafish wait the undreamt of.
They can wound, stories, they can blister.
A squalid phantasmagoria of breath
I finished grating a root and dropped the stub into a jar on the desk. Bloodroot is aptly named; the scientific name is Sanguinaria, and the juice is red, acrid, and sticky. The bowl in my lap was full of oozy, moist shavings, and my hands looked as though I had been disemboweling small animals.
When they built you brother they broke the mold.
Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment?
The rottenness of the matter which is the foundation of everything!
Wear a mask long enough and they grow with your skin. Try to take it off and you bleed.
Mouth cat's-cradled with filaments of gleaming cheese.
Blood, sweat and fingers.
From the corners of her mouth, thick yellow goo bubbles. It matches the mess between Vesper's fingers, the slime on her chin, on her legs, the blobs that randomly pepper things, the blast radius massive, confounding
I don't understand what makes them come out like that!"
"Hunger," said Jem. "Were you thinking about blood?"
"No"
"Were you thinking about eating me?" Will inquired.
"No!
Your kind has a supersitious terror of things ugly and broken; you gear that their conditon may somehow infect you.
Fungi are the interface organisms between life and death.
Cinderella? Snow White? What's that? An illness?
It's called ergot. Smell
(B)ut tiny troubles had a way of swelling, like ticks grown fat with blood.
Ankh-Morpork, the melting pot of the world, which occasionally runs foul of lumps that don't melt.
Something lived in there, all right. He could smell it, a stench that made him think of damp plaster and moldering sofas and ancient mattresses rotting beneath half-liquid coats of mildew. It was familiar, that smell.
In the bacteriology lab, we have culture plates. You put a bug in there and it starts growing and gets bigger and bigger and bigger. And it grows until it finally fills the whole plate. And it crashes and dies.
Packed in my skin from head to toe is one I know and do not know.
Cancer ... the process of creation gone wild, I thought.
Tears. They're like seeds in a watermelon. Good for spitting out.
The butter from Dorothy's' crumpet
Dripped into the bell of her trumpet.
Sweet young Edgar, eating Jell-O,
Dropped a spoonful onto is cello.
Tony smothered the life that me and Ma had built, a furry mould growing over a sweating slab of cheese.
That strong, grassy smell, raw milk in a tin cup.
I stare at Hans.
Hans is shaped like an industrial-sized refrigerator.
His hands are like cinder blocks.
He should not be afraid of a little thing like the ocean.
Death by creaming
Years in museums had trained me not to touch things that were this obviously fine and rare. Some voracious beast in the pit of my soul wanted to lick the moulding, though, if I'm being honest.
And "Immortality"
mildews ...
in the museums of the moon
Smelly cheese, blue cheese, runny cheese, MOULDY CHEESE, cheesy cheese.
I had three pieces of limestone on my desk, but I was terrified to find that they required to be dusted daily, when the furniture of my mind was all undusted still, and threw them out the window in disgust.
The combination of popcorn, soda, and melted chocolate which covers the floors of movie theaters.
Ants under the skin. As Rhage transferred his weight from one shitkicker to the other, he felt like his bloodstream had come to a soft boil and the bubbles were tickling the underside of every fucking square inch of his flesh.
Things, even people have a way of leaking into each other like flavours when you cook.
The perfection of rottenness.
What can you see in mine?" "A load of soggy brown stuff," said Harry.
worms and bugs. They climbed up the
Whole monstrosity growing more huge and throwing out new and more awful tentacles every day.
Body hair. You know when you're swimming as a kid and you want to crawl on your dad? None of us went anywhere near him. 'My god, a beaver! Everyone out of the pool!
I'm a moldy moldy man I'm moldy thru and thru I'm a moldy moldy man You would not think it true I'm moldy til my eyeballs I'm moldy til my toe I will not dance I shyballs I'm such a humble Joe.
Everything she touched either crumbled to dust or dissolved into a powder that gave off spores. The
Things that go bump in the brain.
Toads, beetles, bats.
strange and imported foods.
MAN 1: I'm hungry.
MAN 2: Me too. Hey, I found a rock with a snot in it. I was thinking of eating it.
MAN 1: Um, okay. Go ahead.
MAN 2: (slurps up the oyster)
MAN 1: What does it taste like?
MAN 2: Pneumonia.
I have a fear of things growing on things. I don't know where it came from. But I go hiking a lot, and sometimes I can't handle moss growing on trees or tumors on trees or mushrooms.
I thought a forest was made up entirely of trees, but now I know that the foundation lies below ground, in the fungi.
The odor of the room was baked fruit, beeswax, pine, and old newspapers.
They came out in a dim, damp basement - a generic sort of place, full of moulding boxes. 'You take me to the nicest places,' Claire said, and sneezed.
Milk, powdered heavy cream, and powdered butter." "Didn't know a lot of these products existed,
Seeped into his bones from decades of sitting outdoors in
A splendour of miscellaneous spirits.
Oily marks appear on walls / Where pleasure moments hung before
Lungs, they do not like to be messed with. I give pneumonia one star and that's for the silent p.
Well, I'm not good with sliminess. I hate the thought of creatures that have slime on them or creatures that leave a slimy trail. At home, the sight of a slug can bring up my breakfast.
An hour ago Cutwell had thumbed through the index of The Monster Fun Grimoire and had cautiously assembled a number of common household ingredients and put a match to them.
Funny thing about eyebrows, he mused. You never really noticed them until they'd gone.
Powdered doughnuts I will look for powdered doughnuts in the wilderness here doughnuts
Muffin cups in my bakery were real sorcerer's apprentice material, like the dough for the cinnamon rolls every morning could have stood in for The Blob.
You can't just boss bacteria around like that," said the younger Mrs. Hempstock. "They don't like it." "Stuff and silliness," said the old lady. "You leave wigglers alone and they'll be carrying on like anything. Show them who's boss and they can't do enough for you. You've tasted my cheese..
Tall and skinny, with arms and legs sticking out at odd angles, as if [they] were made of drinking straws instead of flesh and bone.
Which she had spent long and happy hours releasing from their shells, with crazy dedication, because the shelling of pine-kernels is a form of lunacy, you spend more energy getting the damn things out than they give you when you eat.
As a kid, his favorite toy had been a snow globe, that held a small town of gingerbread buildings and peppermint streets. He'd wanted so badly to live there that one day he'd smashed the glass ball - only to find out that the houses were made of plaster, the candy stripes painted on.
You would realize that all the cookies were formed in the same mold. And what is more, Sophie, you are now seized by the irresistible desire to see this mold. Because clearly, the mold itself must be utter perfection - and in a sense, more beautiful - in comparison with these crude copies.
What are they called? Sprackles, shakums, edible sequins, glossy sugar deedeebobs, I don't know. Instead of sprinkling them on a cookie, I sprinkle them on Angel de la Guarda.
What I remember are tentacles. Tentacles and teeth.
I had a lump in my throat the size of a bundt cake pan.