Flies are insects of the order Diptera (di = two, and ptera = wings). They possess a pair of wings on the mesothorax and a pair of halteres, derived from the hind wings, on the metathorax. The presence of a single pair of wings distinguishes true flies from other insects with "fly" in their name.
- God in His wisdom made the fly
And then forgot to tell us why.
- Ogden Nash, The Fly, reported in John MacKay Shaw, Childhood in Poetry (1967), Volume 3, p. 1856.
Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations
- Quotes reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 282.
- We see spiders, flies, or ants entombed and preserved forever in amber, a more than royal tomb.
- Francis Bacon, Historia Vitæ et Mortis.
- It was prettily devised of Æsop: The fly sat upon the axle-tree of the chariot-wheel, and said, What a dust do I raise!
- Francis Bacon, Of Vain-Glory, attributed to Æsop but found in Fables of Laurentius Abstemius.
- We see how flies, and spiders, and the like, get a sepulchre in amber, more durable than the monument and embalming of the body of any king.
- Francis Bacon, Sylvia Sylvarum, Century I, Experiment 100.
- Haceos miel, y paparos han moscas.
- The fly that sips treacle is lost in the sweets.
- John Gay, The Beggar's Opera, Act II, scene 2, line 35.
- To a boiling pot flies come not.
- George Herbert, Jacula Prudentum (1651).
- I saw a flie within a beade
Of amber cleanly buried.
- Robert Herrick, The Amber Bead.
- The Lord shall hiss for the fly that is in the uttermost part of the rivers of Egypt.
- Isaiah, VII. 18.
- A fly sat on the chariot wheel
And said "what a dust I raise."
- Jean de La Fontaine, Fables, Book VII. 9. Phædrus, III. 6. Musca et Mula.
- Busy, curious, thirsty fly,
Drink with me and drink as I!
Freely welcome to my cup,
Could'st thou sip and sip it up;
Make the most of life you may;
Life is short and wears away.
- William Oldys, The Fly.
- Oh! that the memories which survive us here
Were half so lovely as these wings of thine!
Pure relics of a blameless life, that shine
Now thou art gone.
- Charles Tennyson Turner, On Finding a Small Fly Crushed in a Book.
- Baby bye
Here's a fly,
Let us watch him. you and I,
How he crawls
Up the walls
Yet he never falls.
- Theodore Tilton, Baby Bye.