If you want to gather honey, don't kick over the beehive.
When was ever honey made with one bee in a hive?
What is not good for the swarm is not good for the bees.
The life of a swarm of bees is like an active and hazardous campaign of an army: the ranks are being continually depleted and continually recruited.
When you hear buzz around the beehive, you know they're making honey in there.
The queen, I say, is the mother bee; it is undoubtedly complimenting her to call her a queen and invest her with regal authority, yet she is a superb creature and looks every inch a queen.
No beehive. Beehives - we sort of put them - well, we revive them sometimes.
What is not good for the swarm is not good for the bee.
The common bees will never use their sting upon the queen; if she is to be disposed of, they starve her to death, and the queen herself will sting nothing but royalty, nothing but a rival queen.
The little bee returns with evening's gloom, To join her comrades in the braided hive, Where, housed beside their might honey-comb, They dream their polity shall long survive.
When you go in search of honey you must expect to be stung by bees.
Most people don't have any idea about all the complicated life going on inside a hive. Bees have a secret life we don't know anything about.
A multitude of bees can tell the time of day, calculate the geometry of the sun's position, argue about the best location for the next swarm. Bees do a lot of close observing of other bees; maybe they know what follows stinging and do it anyway.
