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“Mustardseed grinned at Bertie. "I was never any good at geometry, but you’re stuck in a love triangle, aren’t you?"

"Shut up," she ordered even as Moth asked, "But what if there were four of them?"

"That’s a love rectangle, and five people would be a love pentagon."

"And what are six people in love?" Cobweb demanded.

Mustardseed thought it over a moment. "Manslaughter, I suppose.”
― Lisa Mantchev , So Silver Bright

“Everything that the spider needs to make a spider-web is not found in the housefly... it's right there in the spider! Whatever you need to make impacts is in you! Discover yourself and make a difference!”
― Israelmore Ayivor, Daily Drive 365

“I have fallen,
for your words.
They are like,
a gossamer cobweb,
I have been,
embroiled,
decoyed,
snared into!
Incapacitated.
I fail to escape.
I fail to liberate.
Your words,
didn't redeem,
made me a,
captive instead.”
― Jasleen Kaur Gumber

“maybe life is a cobweb,
not an organizational chart.”
― Kelli Russell Agodon, Dialogues with Rising Tides

“Night is brushed aside like so much cobweb. The day is wound up and begins even before the last haunted dreams, the last of the fog, those spectral and evanescent residues, have faded away.”
― Gregory Maguire, After Alice

“Night-time is being brushed aside like so much cobweb. The day is wound up and begins even before the last haunted dreams, the last of the fog, those spectral and evanescent residues, have faded away.”
― Gregory Maguire

“...my will was an inconvenience to be cleared away like a cobweb.”
― Holly Black, The Stolen Heir

“It feels great to know that whatever you need to achieve your dreams are in you. Whatever the spider needs to make a cobweb is not in the housefly. Look to yourself; you have what it takes to weave your success!”
― Israelmore Ayivor, Daily Drive 365

“Ode To A Spider's Web by Stewart Stafford

O to dwell in the skeletal palace,
Of the spider's ceiling cobweb and,
Spy on all as none can spy on you,
An arachnid deity astride the world.

Even with many eyes to see things,
It's blind to those monstrous features,
Nimble, lean legs, as wicked fingers,
Weave a webbed masterpiece home.

Outdone by his garden cousin's web,
With backlit, bejewelled beads of dew,
Undulating in a tepid, animating breeze,
The house spider is a satisfied squatter.

© Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved”
― Stewart Stafford

“...the tension between them was so thick and sticky it was almost visible, like layers of cobweb.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“He was sitting at a table by the window, painting strange faces on porous paper with black ink.”
― Storm Constantine, Wraeththu

“Secrets can never be kept from Cobweb; he does not need words.”
― Storm Constantine, Wraeththu

“Cobweb is afraid of dreams and sees omens everywhere. His life is governed by a chain of complex charms, cantrips and runic preconceptions, leading from one day to the next.”
― Storm Constantine, Wraeththu

“Cobweb lived in a strange, magical world, but because he believed in it, the strangeness became power. When Cobweb became angry, he was a thing to be feared, because his power was invisible.”
― Storm Constantine, Wraeththu

“You will go to them, both of you, through the forest of fear, into the mouth of your sin, where the beast speaks, where the beast walks and his blood is our blood.”
― Storm Constantine, Wraeththu

“Faces from the past are always with us.”
― Storm Constantine, Wraeththu

“Strange, I don’t often deceive myself, only other people. Now I remember I am not only soume, but ouana too. Perhaps I have woken up, perhaps some part of me shall die.”
― Storm Constantine, Wraeththu

“Cal is always somehar else’s sword.”
― Storm Constantine, The Shades of Time and Memory

“He’s a sly one, just like the stories we used to hear.”
― Wendy Darling, Breeding Discontent

“His eyes were lined in kohl, his mouth turned up in a lazy, closed-lipped smile.”
― Wendy Darling, Breeding Discontent

“Too long have we hidden, he thought. Too long have we gazed into painted mirrors.”
― Storm Constantine, The Shades of Time and Memory

“The woman in him had slipped one night into the chamber of the warrior and had slit his throat as he slept.”
― Storm Constantine, The Shades of Time and Memory