William Ramsey

Wasp

Such a sting—such a rapid swelling of the knuckle—so out of proportion with the wasp’s thin-torsoed waist and dainty, thread-like feelers. One would think the smallest things should make the smallest pains, droplets of discomfort not lakes of torment. But not so. There seems to be a law that all agony grows of lesser things: the bubonic plague bacterium, the seed of jealousy, and the Hiroshima shell. The law’s corollary is known well, that from great beginnings must come less or little. It’s how to explain the Christian crusades, the master race, and our modern hope in artificial intelligence.

wasps attacking
from a mud hive—
dumb, shrewd hate