A Quote by George Orwell

He would say that God had given him a tail to keep the flies off, but that he would sooner have had no tail and no flies. — © George Orwell
He would say that God had given him a tail to keep the flies off, but that he would sooner have had no tail and no flies.
I don't know what's wrong with me. When I was a girl they had this aviary in one of my foster homes and I'd go in when no one was looking and put out watermelon rinds to feed the flies. There were all these flies that would have starved if I hadn't, and I'm not even wild about flies. They say it makes you a gentler person if you don't eat meat. But wasn't Hitler a vegetarian?
I remember that. I was talking to him and I said how great it would be if actors had a tail because I have animals and a tail is so expressive. On a cat you can tell everything. You can tell if they're annoyed. You can tell whether they're scared.
Would you mind getting off that fly paper and giving the flies a chance?" "Ahhh, you can't trick me! Flies don't read papers!
...the person that had took a bull by the tail once had learnt sixty or seventy times as much as a person that hadn't, and said a person that started in to carry a cat home by the tail was getting knowledge that was always going to be useful to him, and warn't ever going to grow dim or doubtful. Chances are, he isn't likely to carry the cat that way again, either. But if he wants to, I say let him!
That which prevents disagreeable flies from feeding on your repast, was once the proud tail of a splendid bird.
I had a rat-tail when I was younger. I had this nice Bobby Brown fade, with a rat-tail that was long enough to wrap around my face. I used to chew on the end and bite it.
Time flies apace-we would fain believe that everything flies forward with it.
Flies? Flies? Poor puny things. Who wants to eat flies?
I thought I had the world by the tail. It took me a few years to realize the closest I was to having the world by the tail was being a dingle berry on one of its ass hairs.
If man had written the Gospels - say Shakespeare or Eugene O'Neill - the story of the gospel would have been drastically different. They would have placed the prince in halls and palaces and had him walking among the great. They would have had him surrounded by the important and significant of the time. Potentates and kings would have been His companions. But how sweetly common was the real God-man; though He had inhabited all eternity, He had come down and was subject to the rising and the setting of the sun.
On who the flies landed without being chased away by that person, was on her way to death - this was one of the unmistakeable signs. From that time on, I think, dates my obsession with flies. In times of peace, when we all lied still, I made sure to sneak close up to my mother, watching very carefully that no fly would land on her, - I waved my hat over her body, flies don't like wind and movement.
If a cat had a halo, it would probably wear it around it's tail. It makes a statement.
I'd just say the flies get bigger in the summertime. I guess the flies are buzzing.
When I wrote 'Lord of the Flies' - I had no idea it would even get published.
They say that "he who flies highest, falls farthest" - and who am I to argue? But we can't forget that "he who doesn't flap his wings, never flies at all".
Cut off my head, and singular I am, Cut off my tail, and plural I appear; Although my middle's left, there's nothing there! What is my head cut off? A sounding sea; What is my tail cut off? A rushing river; And in their mingling depths I fearless play, Parent of sweetest sounds, yet mute forever.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!