Bugs Quotes

“If I could store lightnings in jars, I'd sell them to sick fireflies to light their way. Only they have nothing to pay for it with but life.”
― Will Advise, Nothing is here...

“Some flies and gnats were sitting on my paper and this disturbed me; I breathed on them to make them go, then blew harder and harder, but it did no good. The tiny beasts lowered their behinds, made themselves heavy, and struggled against the wind until their thin legs were bent. They were absolutely not going to leave the place. They would always find something to get hold of, bracing their heels against a comma or an unevenness in the paper, and they intended to stay exactly where they were until they themselves decided it was the right time to go.”
― Knut Hamsun, Hunger

“Bugs never bug my head. They are amazing. It is the activities of humans which actually bug me all the time.”
― Munia Khan

“The thing about Web companies is there's always something severely fucked-up. There is always an outage, always lost data, always compromised customer information, always a server going offline. You work with these clugey internal tools and patch together work-arounds to compensate for the half-assed, rushed development, and after a while the fucked-upness of the whole enterprise becomes the status quo. VPs insecure that they're not as in touch as they need to be with conditions on the ground insert themselves into projects midstream and you get serious scope creep. You present to the world this image that you're a buttoned-down tech company with everything in its right place but once you're on the other side of the firewall it looks like triage time in an emergency room, 24/7. Systems break down, laptops go into the blue screen of death, developers miskey a line of code, error messages appear that mean absolutely nothing. The instantaneousness with which you can fix stuff creates a culture that works by the seat of its pants. I swear the whole Web was built by virtue of developers fixing one mistake after another, constantly forced to compensate for the bugginess of their code.”
― Ryan Boudinot, Blueprints of the Afterlife

“Hunter’s dead,” Taylor said without preamble. “It was these . . . these things. They came crawling up out of him and were eating him, oh God, I mean, it was like . . . I mean he was crying and Dekka prayed with him and he tried to fry his own brain just like he did with Harry only I guess it didn’t work, I guess he couldn’t do it, so Sam . . .” She swallowed. “Anyone have some water?”
“What about Sam?” Astrid demanded.
“He did it for him. Sam. I mean, he . . . Hunter was, you know . . . so Sam.” She pantomimed raising her hands, like Sam, like he would do when using his power.
Astrid closed her eyes and crossed herself.
“Rest in peace,” Edilio said and crossed himself as well.
“Sam burned the boy?” Howard asked. Then, bitterly sarcastic said, “Yeah, you all pray to Jesus. Because Jesus is really providing a lot of help here. Sounds to me like Sam was the one doing what had to be done.”
― Michael Grant, Plague

“Sam sent me to give you a message, Edilio. He said, ‘Tell Edilio I couldn’t kill the bugs.’”
“The things that came out of Hunter?” Howard asked.
Taylor closed her eyes. Tears squeezed out and rolled down her cheeks. “Yes. The things that came out of Hunter. Sam shot them, you know, with his light. But they’re like, reflective or whatever. Anyway, it didn’t kill them.”
― Michael Grant, Plague

“About time,” Brianna said.
“Hey, sorry, we were kind of busy,” Quinn snapped. “And I didn’t exactly realize I was on a schedule.”
“I don’t like what I have to do here,” Brianna said. She handed Quinn the note.
He read it. Read it again.
“Is this some kind of joke?” he demanded.
“Albert’s dead,” Brianna said. “Murdered.”
“What?”
“He’s dead. Sam and Dekka are off in the wilderness somewhere. Edilio’s got the flu, he might die, a lot of kids have. A lot. And there are these, these monsters, these kind of bugs . . . no one knows what to call them . . . heading toward town.” Her face contorted in a mix of rage and sorrow and fear. She blurted, “And I can’t stop them!”
Quinn stared at her. Then back at the note.
He felt his contented little universe tilt and go sliding away.
There were just two words on the paper: “Get Caine.”
― Michael Grant, Plague

“Have a seat with me,” Caine said, hopping down from the wall. “How have you been, Taylor?”
“Life’s one big party,” she said.
He laughed appreciatively at her joke. “Things must be pretty bad for Edilio to send for me, huh?”
“Things are always pretty bad,” she said. “We’re at a new level of bad. I saw those bugs.”
Caine mustered all his sincerity. “I have to go and fight these creatures. But I don’t know much about them.”
Taylor told him what she knew. Caine felt some of his confidence drain away as she laid out the facts in gruesome detail and with complete conviction.
“Well, this should be fun,” Diana said dryly. “I’m so glad we came back.”
― Michael Grant, Plague

“Meanwhile, the original programmers will have left, and their replacements -- believing they understand the code -- will make some truly spectacular errors, mistakes that will suddenly make everything completely stop working for a while. So that what had seemed to be a descending curve of bugs, a fall toward the ever-receding zero, will reveal itself as the shape of another equation altogether: a line of relentlessly rising, bug-counts climbing in an endless battle against infinity.”
― Ellen Ullman, The Bug

“If locusts are ravenous sociopaths, cicadas are more like frat boys - clumsy, loud, and obsessed with sex.”
― Catherine Price, 101 Places Not to See Before You Die

“Ugly or beautiful, it is the little creatures that make the world go round. We should celebrate and appreciated them in all their wonderful diversity.”
― Dave Goulson

“I" theory take a later of course without "O" and you will see that all are build with "I".”
― Deyth Banger

“This is not your standard “How to restore” your VW Beetle book. It’s also not a workshop manual. Aside from a basic rundown on the differences between various bug models through the years, there is a section on some things you can do to preserve your bug. Mostly however, what I’ve done is reviewed all the things I did to my bugs
and put those ideas together as cheap, skillful, cheap, d.i.y, cheap means of enhancing your grocery getter’s performance and handling.”
― Christina Engela, Bugspray

“There are few glitches and bugs in the Matrix.”
― Deyth Banger

“Roscoe had fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion. He awoke to find persistent itching on his stomach. He scratched it through his T-shirt.
He went back to sleep. But dreams kept him from sleeping soundly. That and the itching.
He woke again and felt the itchy spot. There was a lump there. Like a swelling. And when he held still and pressed his fingers against the spot he could feel something moving under the skin.
The small room was suddenly very cold. Roscoe shivered.
He went to the window hoping for light. There was a moon but the light was faint. Roscoe pulled his shirt over his head. He looked down at the spot on his stomach.
It was moving. The flesh itself. He could feel it under his fingertips. Like something poking back at him. But he couldn’t feel it from the inside, couldn’t feel it in his stomach. And he realized that his entire body was numb. He could feel with his fingertips but not the skin of his stomach—
The skin split!
“Ahhhh!”
He was touching it as it split, and he shrieked in terror and something pushed its way out through a bloodless hole.
“Oh, God, oh, God, oh, no no no no!”
Roscoe screamed and leaped for the door. His hand clawed at the knob as he babbled and wept and the door was locked, locked, oh, God, no, they had locked him in.
He banged at the door, but it was the middle of the night. Who would hear him in the empty town hall?
“Hey! Hey! Is anyone there? Help me. Help me. Please, please, someone help me!”
He banged and the thing in his belly stuck out half an inch. He was scared to look at it. But he did and he screamed again because it was a mouth now, a gnashing insect mouth full of parts like no normal mouth. Hooked, wicked mandibles clicked. It was inside him, chewing its way out.
Hatching from him.
“Help me, help me, don’t leave me here like this!”
But who would hear him? Sinder? No. Not anymore. That was over. All over. And he was alone and friendless. No one even to hear as he screamed and begged.
The window. He grabbed the pillow from his bed and pushed it against the glass and then punched it hard. The pane shattered. He took off his shoe and smashed at the starred glass until most of it fell tinkling to the street below.
Then he screamed for help. Screamed into the Perdido Beach night air.
No answer.
“Help me! Please, please, oh, God, please help me! You can’t just leave me locked up!”
But still, no answer.
Fear took hold of him, deep crazy-making fear.
No. No. No no no no, this couldn’t be happening. He hadn’t done anything to hurt anyone, he hadn’t done anything awful. Why? Why was this happening to him?
Roscoe fell to his knees and begged God. God, please, no, no, no, I didn’t do anything wrong. I wasn’t brave or strong but I wasn’t bad, either. Not like this, please, God, no no no, not like this.
Roscoe felt an itching in the middle of his back.
He sat down and cried.”
― Michael Grant, Plague

“The door exploded inward and a tangle of bug legs appeared.
“I can hold them, but I can’t kill them all,” Caine shouted.
“Yeah. They’re hard to kill. You got a plan?”
Caine bit savagely at his thumb, worrying the cuticle. They were surrounded. The very walls were being battered. The windows were all smashed. They couldn’t fit through the door but they would soon make it wide enough.
They stood, Caine and Brianna, in the kitchen, the center of the house, as far as possible from the windows, but now the bugs had their mandibles shoved in through the doors and windows, questing, slicing the air, their ropelike tongues lashing madly.
The entire house was like a drum pounded by dozens of drumsticks.
“You know, I’m kind of disappointed,” Brianna said. “Situation like this? Sam would come up with a plan.”
― Michael Grant, Plague

“Oval Window, 1953 - 1957
In 1953 came the first major changes in Beetle styling. Rear view was increasingly a problem and so the boys in Wolfsburg cut out the centre post and made the split into an oval. Some callous butchers are known to have manually cut the center post of the split rear window out either to improve rear visibility or to make their cars look newer!
This window stayed in vogue until 1958 with the first small square rear window model.
Note that the rear bonnet was the same as the Split, except for minor changes such as handle and ‘popes nose’ designs. Taillights are larger and also oval shaped. Outer lens is GLASS, not plastic and has a distinctive honeycomb pattern. These Bugs also came with pop-up (semaphore) indicators in the b-pillars.”
― Christina Engela, Bugspray

“Pleasure, sex… I never did understand this… but a system like the = real world has it's on glitches and bugs.”
― Deyth Banger

“You don't like it?
Just leave it, try something new… nobody has said you can't do that, right?”
― Deyth Banger

“The caterpillars are coming. They’re coming. As they passed a blunt rolled with marijuana shake around the bonfire, filled plastic cups with beer from a keg in the back of John Anderson’s Bronco, snuck cigarettes at the red doors that led to the make-out woods behind school. As they waited on line at the cafeteria for pizza and Tater Tots, warmed up during choral practice, and changed for gym in the locker room. Until Maddie felt something titanic rushing toward the island, gathering steam like a nor’easter barreling toward shore, and the waiting filled with a tingling urgency she knew they all felt. She felt it. Car engines revved harder, highs soared higher, buzzes and crushes burned brighter. “Look.” She lifted her palm as the insect inched across. The two lines of blue and red dots on its back glimmered like spots of blood rising after a pinprick. “They’re here.”
― Julia Fierro, The Gypsy Moth Summer

“Large Squares, 1965 -Last Beetle
The body is much the same as the previous model, aside from increase in window size all round. Door handles and lock mechanisms also changed as well as seat and dashboard designs. Chrome beading became thinner, mounting holes for these also smaller. Chrome was later replaced by black anodizing or plastic to try and modernize the Bug. Tail light clusters changed from the oval shape to the ‘headstone’ and then the ‘elephant’s foot’ jumbo units the bug saw its last days with. In 1965 new larger windows all round. 1966 saw the last 6v bug, and also the first 1300cc motor. Those horrible little air vents behind the rear side windows came out in 1971 that caused lots of rusty bugs. Sloping headlights looked much nicer but went out in 1967.”
― Christina Engela, Bugspray

“She wasn't much of an outdoor type. It figured that she would wind up wandering in some bug infested jungle on her vacation.”
― Nicole Douglas, Afraid to Fall

“There were in fact bugs," he recalls, "But the essential difference was in the obviousness of bugs, the repeatability of bugs, and potential for fixing bugs oneself. In this environment, bugs were only temporary delays on a steady road towards excellence and stability.”
― Glyn Moody

“Sladkey recalls the first time he found and sent a bug to Linus: "My first contribution was in porting some program, probably one of my smaller personal projects. I discovered a bug. Since Linux came with source, my first inclination as a hacker was to take a look under the hood and see if I could fix the problem. I found that although I had never done any kernel work, that I was able to navigate around the code pretty easily and provide a small patch to correct the problem. "With my heart beating and my palms sweating, I composed the most professional message I could muster and sent it off to [email protected] describing the bug and including my proposed fix. Minutes
later he replied something like, 'Yup, that's a bug. Nice investigation. Thanks. Fixed,' and I was hooked.”
― Glyn Moody

“believe, then, / in the mosquito: how it begins to take / your blood - heat and ghost and age and itch / as you press the net to your temples / and scratch in wild belief while / outside, leaves darken, insects / bite, and you smash a body / with the back / of your palm.”
― Carlina Duan, I Wore My Blackest Hair

“You know you've had a rough night when the bugs in your kitchen look up at you and go, "WTF”
― Neil Leckman

“When you see cockroaches freebasing the insecticide it's time to get professional help.

The bugs will never know.”
― Neil Leckman

“I can just imagine the cricket household at sunset:
"Oh man, it's late!!"
"Hey, you chirp I'm tired"
"Besides, the later bug becomes a rug!!"
"You just had to bring up Uncle Phil didn't you?”
― Neil Leckman, Wurms

“Be a firefly-flash as if you're dive-bombing from Heaven”
― Maureen Joyce Connolly, Little Lovely Things

“He isn't a codebase; he is a human being, and bugs are harder to spot and fix in humans. You can't just deploy a fix immediately. It takes time to identify the problem and foster and grow a change.”
― Jono Bacon