Bees are flying insects closely related to wasps and ants, and are known for their role in pollination and for producing honey and beeswax. Bees are a monophyletic lineage within the superfamily Apoidea, presently classified by the unranked taxon name Anthophila. There are nearly 20,000 known species of bees in seven to nine recognized families. They are found on every continent except Antarctica, in every habitat on the planet that contains insect-pollinated flowering plants.
The best-known bee species is the European honey bee, which, as its name suggests, produces honey, as do a few other types of bee. Human management of this species is known as beekeeping or apiculture.
- Forget not bees in winter, though they sleep.
- Vita Sackville-West, in "Bee-Master" in The Land (1926).
Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922) 
- Quotes reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 63-64.
- The honey-bee that wanders all day long
The field, the woodland, and the garden o'er,
To gather in his fragrant winter store,
Humming in calm content his winter song,
Seeks not alone the rose's glowing breast,
The lily's dainty cup, the violet's lips,
But from all rank and noxious weeds he sips
The single drop of sweetness closely pressed
Within the poison chalice.
- Anne C. Lynch Botta, The Lesson of the Bee.
- The pedigree of honey
Does not concern the bee;
A clover, any time, to him
- Emily Dickinson, Poems. V. (Ed. 1891).
- His labor is a chant,
His idleness a tune;
Oh, for a bee's experience
Of clovers and of noon!
- Emily Dickinson, Poems, XV. The Bee.
- Burly, dozing humblebee,
Where thou art is clime for me.
Let them sail for Porto Rique,
Far-off heats through seas to seek.
I will follow thee alone,
Thou animated torrid-zone!
- Ralph Waldo Emerson, The Humble-Bee.
- Seeing only what is fair,
Sipping only what is sweet,
Leave the chaff, and take the wheat.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson, The Humble-Bee.
- The careful insect 'midst his works I view,
Now from the flowers exhaust the fragrant dew,
With golden treasures load his little thighs,
And steer his distant journey through the skies.
- John Gay, Rural Sports, Canto I, line 82.
- Bees work for man, and yet they never bruise
Their Master's flower, but leave it having done,
As fair as ever and as fit to use;
So both the flower doth stay and honey run.
- George Herbert, The Church. Providence.
- For pitty, Sir, find out that Bee
Which bore my Love away
I'le seek him in your Bonnet brave,
He seek him in your eyes.
- Robert Herrick, Mad Nan's Song.
- "O bees, sweet bees!" I said; "that nearest field
Is shining white with fragrant immortelles.
Fly swiftly there and drain those honey wells."
- Helen Hunt Jackson, My Bees.
- Listen! O, listen!
Here ever hum the golden bees
Underneath full-blossoined trees,
At once with glowing fruit and flowers crowned.
- James Russell Lowell, The Sirens, line 94.
- As busie as a Bee.
- John Lyly, Euphues and his England, p. 252.
- The bee is enclosed, and shines preserved, in a tear of the sisters of Phaeton, so that it seems enshrined in its own nectar. It has obtained a worthy reward for its great toils; we may suppose that the bee itself would have desired such a death.
- Martial, Epigrams (c. 80-104 AD), Book IV, Epigram 32. (For same idea see Ant, Fly, Spider; also Pope, under Wonders).
- In the nice bee, what sense so subtly true
From pois'nous herbs extracts the healing dew?
- Alexander Pope, An Essay on Man (1733-34), Epistle I. 219.
- For so work the honey-bees,
Creatures that by a rule in nature teach
The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
They have a king and officers of sorts,
Where some, like magistrates, correct at home,
Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad,
Others like soldiers, armed in their stings,
Make boot upon the summers velvet buds,
Which pillage they with merry march bring home.
- The solitary Bee
Whose buzzing was the only sound of life,
Flew there on restless wing,
Seeking in vain one blossom where to fix.
- Robert Southey, Tkalaba, Book VI, Stanza 13.
- The little bee returns with evening's gloom,
To join her comrades in the braided hive,
Where, housed beside their mighty honey-comb,
They dream their polity shall long survive.
- Charles Tennyson Turner, A Summer Night in the Bee Hive.
- How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower.
- Isaac Watts, Against Idleness.
- The wild Bee reels from bough to bough
With his furry coat and his gauzy wing,
Now in a lily cup, and now
Setting a jacinth bell a-swing,
In his wandering.
- Oscar Wilde, Her Voice.