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“If I be waspish, best beware my sting.”
― William Shakespeare, The Taming of the Shrew

“Say I feel all sad and self-indulgent, then get stung by a wasp, my misery feels quite abstract and I long just to be in spiritual pain once more - 'damn you tiny assassin, clad in yellow and black, how I crave my former innocence where melancholy was my only trial'.”
― Russell Brand, Articles of Faith

“For the multiculturalist, white Anglo-Saxon Protestants are prohibited, Italians and Irish get a little respect, blacks are good, native Americans are even better. The further away we go, the more they deserve respect. This is a kind of inverted, patronising respect that puts everyone at a distance.”
― Slavoj Žižek

“He left the room, and closeted himself in the dark, buzzing space where he raised his wasps and plotted the courses of heavenly bodies.”
― Kim Newman, Professor Moriarty: The Hound of the D'Urbervilles

“A perfect society needs no rulers," they said. "Knowledge and authority ought to be held in common. In order to imagine a new existence, we must free ourselves from the structures of both our failed government and the unjustifiable hegemony of the wasp nests. Hear what you can hear and learn what you can learn while we remain among them. But be ready.”
― E. Lily Yu, Clarkesworld Magazine, Issue 55, April 2011

“Soon, they actually began to titter on their toes as they glared at me, looking more like an army of angry wasps than ever before. All they needed now were matching yellow and black jumpers and pretend stingers!”
― Adele Rose, Possession

“How the WASPs loved to nickname their children after the workaday trades: Tinker. Cooper. Smithy. Maybe it was to hearken back to their seventeenth-century New England bootstraps--the manual trades that had made them stalwart and humble and virtuous in the eyes of their Lord. Or maybe it was just a way of politely understating their predestination to having it all.”
― Amor Towles, Rules of Civility

“I was happiest in the sky—at dawn when the quietness of the airwas like a caress, when the noon sun beat down and at dusk whenthe sky was drenched with the fading light. Think of me there and remember me…â€� - Cornelia Fort”
― Cornelia Fort