Dart Frog Quotes

Evil is like billiard balls. All it takes is a little push.

She knew the shapes of all the trees; still some seemed to dart here and there, moving with the moon. For a while she was so stiff she couldn't swallow, but on cue, the familiar songs of tree frogs and katydids filled the night. More comforting than three blind mice with a carving knife. The darkness held an odor of sweetness, the earthy breath of frogs and salamanders who'd made it through one more stinky-hot day. The marsh snuggled in closer with a low fog, and she slept.

My mother thinks I’ve dyed my hair red for attention— How can I explain to her the ways that she is right and wrong. As of last night, my hair is the color of a brick the moment before it goes through a stained-glass window. My hair is the color of a fire engine driving through a burning building. My hair is the color of a dart frog: generations of death adapting into this exact shade of poison. It’s called aposematism— we learned about it in bio. It’s when an animal advertises to predators that it is not worth the attempt to consume. Bright red and orange, the colors of pain, I WILL MAKE YOU SICK I WILL KILL YOU FROM INSIDE YOUR THROAT ATTENTION! I MAY LOOK LIKE PREY BUT I WILL END YOUR LIFE My mother says I want attention and maybe she’s right My mother says I am just making a statement and maybe she’s right But in my mind it’s not saying please— it’s saying don’t and this is how I know men are not really wolves because maybe a wolf would listen.

Don’t ever step on a driver ant. If you do, fifty million of its pals could swarm all over you. Great. That’s all I need, to be attacked by ants. I’d rather be attacked by ants than by a golden poison dart frog. It has enough poison in it to kill ten grown men. In that case, I’m glad I’m not a grown man yet.

I’d rather be attacked by ants than by a golden poison dart frog. It has enough poison in it to kill ten grown men. In that case, I’m glad I’m not a grown man yet. But I bet a golden poison dart frog wouldn’t want to get into a fight with a blue-ringed octopus. It’s only the size of a golf ball, but it has enough venom to kill twenty-six people.

My hair is the color of a dart frog: generations of death adapting into this exact shade of poison ...bright red and orange, the colors of pain, I WILL MAKE YOU SICK I WILL KILL YOU FROM INSIDE YOUR THROAT ATTENTION! I MAY LOOK LIKE PREY BUT I WILL END YOUR LIFE

My mother thinks I’ve dyed my hair red for attention— How can I explain to her the ways that she is right and wrong. As of last night, my hair is the color of a brick the moment before it goes through a stained-glass window. My hair is the color of a fire engine driving through a burning building. My hair is the color of a dart frog: generations of death adapting into this exact shade of poison. It’s called aposematism— we learned about it in bio. It’s when an animal advertises to predators that it is not worth the attempt to consume. Bright red and orange, the colors of pain, I WILL MAKE YOU SICK I WILL KILL YOU FROM INSIDE YOUR THROAT ATTENTION! I MAY LOOK LIKE PREY BUT I WILL END YOUR LIFE My mother says I want attention and maybe she’s right My mother says I am just making a statement and maybe she’s right But in my mind it’s not saying please— it’s saying don’t and this is how I know men are not really wolves because maybe a wolf would listen.

There were nearly as many frogs in the shallows, where lily pads floated. Some water lily flowers were white and some were yellow and some were the palest pink. Dragonflies darted above the water, their iridescent wings catching the glint of the sunlight.

At first, every few minutes, she sat up and peered through the screen. Listening for footsteps in the woods. She knew the shapes of all the trees; still some seemed to dart here and there, moving with the moon. For a while she was so stiff she couldn't swallow, but on cue, the familiar songs of tree frogs and katydids filled the night. More comforting than three blind mice with a carving knife. The darkness held an odor of sweetness, the earthy breath of frogs and salamanders who'd made it through one more stinky-hot day. The marsh snuggled in closer with a low fog, and she slept.

There once was a blind knave, Who stumbled into a bear cave. He could not see the bear, But that did not mean it wasn’t there, Or that it couldn’t send him to his grave.

Christ came into this world with only one message. That message was not, morality is relative and not objective. That message was not, I abolish the law. That message was not, the law doesn’t need to be followed if it’s inconvenient for you. That message was not, men and women are free to live as they please. That message was not, rationalize and justify your sins. That message was not, enable, encourage, and give license to the sinner. That message was not, actions don’t have consequences. That message was not, men and women’s actions are justified by their feelings. That message was not, all points of view are equally valid. That message was not, everyone gets a free pass into heaven regardless of what they choose to believe and how they choose to live. Christ’s message was, “Repent and believe.

Shit does happen, I can't exactly argue with that. But it doesn't have to be in your pants.

Catholici sunt fideles unius veri Dei sectatores. Non habemus locum in mundo superborum peccatorum. In exilium acti, in oratione miraculi expectantes, cito perimus. Libera nos Domine.

People think their feelings justify everything, but that isn't true.

Evil cannot be tolerated or ignored; it must be destroyed.

Like improbable frogs, the travellers bounded from one stone to another, and now each landing-place was skimmed with the newborn flood. The water was a silver dragon, its surface laminated with scales formed by pelting raindrops. The dragon clashed and steamed.