A bee is never as busy as it seems; it's just that it can't buzz any slower.
The life of a swarm of bees is like an active and hazardous campaign of an army: the ranks are being continually depleted and continually recruited.
The careful insect 'midst his works I view, Now from the flowers exhaust the fragrant dew, With golden treasures load his little thighs, And steer his distant journey through the skies.
A brier rose whose buds yield fragrant harvest for the honey bee.
Oh to be a pear tree – any tree in bloom! With kissing bees singing of the beginning of the world!
It takes a bee 10,000,000 trips to collect enough nectar to make 1 pound of honey.
The honey-bee's great ambition is to be rich, to lay up great stores, to possess the sweet of every flower that blooms. She is more than provident. Enough will not satisfy her, she must have all she can get by hook or crook.
I always feel that I have missed some good fortune if I am away from home when my bees swarm. What a delightful summer sound it is! How they come pouring out of the hive, twenty or thirty thousand bees, each striving to get out first!
As bees gather honey, so we collect what is sweetest out of all things and build.
Butterflies are always following me, everywhere I go.
The lovely flowers embarrass me. They make me regret I am not a bee.
