Funny Quotes - Page 43

My mother-in-law belongs in Hell, but the devil is afraid she’ll end up taking over.

Oh.” My dad actually looked sheepish. “It’s one o’clock in the morning and I was going to tell you to shut the monkey up and go to bed. I didn’t realise what was going on in here.”“What’s going on in here?” Cameron asked suspiciously.“Maturity.” My dad backed out of the room and closed the door.

Here," Myrnin said, his voice still gentle and low. "Amelie said you had to work. No one said you had to work alone." He picked up the next part and slotted it in, took the screwdriver from Claire's numbed fingers, and fastened it with a couple of deft, fast movements. "I'll be your hands."She wanted to cry, because it was so sweet, but it wouldn't do any good.

If men could be bought like clothes at an outlet, only then would women always get what they bargained for.

Try not to trip," she added. "We don't have time for a concussion today."I groaned. That would be just like me - ruin everything, destroy the world, in a moment of klutziness.

Is there somebody out there? Amy, is that you?” her mother called.“No. Tell me this isn’t happening.” Quinn rested his forehead against hers. “Has she got a wiretap on you or something? I swear, she’s like a walking hard-on detector.”Amy bit her lip, trying not to laugh. Quinn levered himself up on his arms.“Mrs. P., if you value your life, you’ll go back inside and turn off the light right now.

If she did not wish to lead a virtuous life, at least she desired to enjoy a character for virtue, and we know that no lady in the genteel world can possess this desideratum, until she has put on a train and feathers and has been presented to her Sovereign at Court. From that august interview they come out stamped as honest women. The Lord Chamberlain gives them a certificate of virtue.

Things hit a limit, though, when I was set upon by a pickpocket in a baker's shop. I didn't notice that I was being set upon by a pickpocket, which I am glad of, because I like to work only with professionals.

I came in several times and spoke, but perhaps you were asleep when I thought you were awake.''You are very considerate to explain it this way,' Sugreeva said, 'but I was drunk

She’d ceased spying upon him, that was true, but the damage was done. Every time he sat at his desk, he could feel her eyes upon him, even though he knew very well she’d shut her curtains tight. But clearly, reality had very little to do with the matter, because all he had to do, it seemed, was glance at her window, and he lost an entire hour’s work.It happened thus: He looked at the window, because it was there, and he couldn’t very well never happen to glance upon it unless he also shut his curtains tight, which he was not willing to do, given the amount of time he spent in his office. So he saw the window, and he thought of her, because, really, what else would he think of upon seeing her bedroom window? At that point, annoyance set in, because A) she wasn’t worth the energy, B) she wasn’t even there, and C) he wasn’t getting any work done because of her.C always led into a bout of even deeper irritation, this time directed at himself, because D) he really ought to have better powers of concentration, E) it was just a stupid window, and F) if he was going to get agitated about a female, it ought to be one he at least liked.F was where he generally let out a loud growl and forced himself to get back to his translation. It usually worked for a minute or two, and then he’d look back up, and happen to see the window, and the whole bloody nonsense cycled back to the beginning.

I never knew how much I missed pickles and pickle juice. It's like, an overwhelming feeling that I can't even explain.

Even her pink bunny slippers seem to prick up their ears.Diary of a Penguin-napper (p. 15)

I have started a new blog W.A.R.(Writers Amongst Readers) for all those writing or reading books. Quotes, excerpts, comments from the world's greatest writers. See robinhawdonblog

She sighed. Loudly. "Physical appearance is not what is important."Yeah right. Tell that to any girl who hasn't bothered to put on a presentable shirt or fix her hair because she's only running into the grocery store to get a quart of milk for her grandmother, and who does she see tending the 7-ITEMS-OR-LESS cash register but the guy of her dreams, except she can't even say hi—much less try to develop a meaningful relationship—since she looks like the poster child for the terminally geeky.

It's not a stereotype if it's always true.

... an artist should paint from the heart, and not always what people expect. Predictability often leads to the dullest work, in my opinion, and we have been bored stiff long enough I think.

Ever heard of the rule of three? he shouts as we run.No!If you save somebody's life three times, their life belongs to you. You saved my life today, that makes once. Save it twice more an I'm all yers.

Julian smiled back, his full lips pulled back over white teeth as he rolled the blanket back a little bit. “Is he really a heart breaker?” t“I’m the breakiest of heart breakers,” Leo interjected, his tone deadpan as he dumped a handful of greens into the pot on the stove. tJulian wrinkled his nose. “That’s not even a word,” He complained and fell into a sulky silence from his place on the bed.

Do you think they're going to buy that a guy in tacky leather chaps dances like this?" I scoffed when he twirled me back into his emb

Theologians should study in a seminary and before graduating they should make a visit to heaven and hell after which they should submit their thesis and graduate.

Forgive me, madam," he said lightly, amused, "but waiting to make love to you again is straining my nerves." She scoffed but she was quite shaken; he could see it in her expression, in the way she nervously toyed with the buttons on her pelisse."How awfully presumptuous of you to think I'd let you.""You will," he insisted soothingly.She gaped at him."Please continue," he urged. "I'm aching to hear the rest.""You're as arrogant as usual.""You missed it, though.""I absolutely did not," she asserted.He grinned. "You missed my arrogance almost as much as I missed your impudence, little one.""That's absurd.""I love you, Caroline," he softly, quickly replied, catching her off guard with such tenderness. "Move on before I decide I'm finished with this conversation, rip off your clothes, and show you how much.

Hey,” Shayne said through the door. “You going to stay in there all night, because we’re getting tired of trying to eavesdrop from out here. Can’t hear a damn thing.

Rejection is an opportunity for your selection.

Leo,” Hazel gasped, “I can’t—my arms—”“Hazel,” he said. “Do you trust me?”“No!”“Me neither,” Leo admitted.

Caroline, do you value your neck?""Yes, I'm rather fond of it. Why?""Because if you don't shut up, I'm going to wring it.

All the kids with fancy shoes or clothes, do you know what I got with a family of nine? When ever we said let's play poker, we had a full team of adults right there.

When selecting a one-night stand, a heterosexual woman who is materialistic is a trillion times more likely to choose a sexually unattractive poor man who seems rich over a sexually attractive rich man who seems poor.

A customer facing crucial decisions: What should I wipe myself with? What should I brush with? His personal hygiene was deteriorating rapidly as he stared at the rows of possibilities, sweating profusely. Would he ever bathe again?

What happened?" he asked brusquely, interrupting me. "What do you mean, what happened?""I sensed your fear, heard you call out my

And I like a good horror story as much as the next person so long as they kill off some men too and not just girls. But the voices Joan heard were real. There’s clear and substantiated proof they were real. She won battles that would otherwise have been lost because of what those voices told her in advance of them allowing the French generals to strategize in ways completely different than they did before Joan came along. People’s lives were saved because of what those voices told her.

Careers are not made in a family business, they are born – by patricide. Then they die from neglect, and avoid the tragedy of being put out of business.

So what's the plan?” Ben asked.“Go inside. Look around. Improvise.”“Brilliant." Hi stroked his chin. “Quick question: Is having no plan the same as having a terrible plan, or are those different categories?

There is an enduring freshness in what remains strange and obscure which the cliches of greatness can only evoke nostalgia for.

In my defense, the Easter Bunny is the weakest link in magical lore. I mean, you have to admit that the whole thing is ridiculous. A giant rodent who sneaks into people's homes at night to leave eggs filled with candy? How in the world is that symbolic of the Easter celebration?

Remember, the village idiot was the spiritual man who built the ark and saved his family. Keep being you and never give up marching to the beat of your own drum!

He's such a dear, Mr. Garnet. A beautiful, pure, bred Persian. He has taken prizes.""He's always taking something - generally food.

That’ll be like catching Niagara fucking Falls with a fly net.

I had a dream about you last night... you kept meowing at people and licking yourself it was not unlike you normally.

Well," Mr. Cheeseman interjected. "Perhaps there's an easy solution to this. Maybe Captain Fabulous has an alter ego.""What's an alter ego?" asked Gerard."It's a superhero's true but secret identity," said Chip. "You know, the way that Superman is really Clark Kent." "Superman is really Clark Kent?""It's pretty obvious," said Penny. "To everyone but you and Lois Lane.""Okay," Gerard conceded. "Captain Fabulous's alter ego will be...Teddy Roosevelt.

Life and death played out before my very eyes. You don't see these things if you clean your room regularly.

He things we think he's a double agent, working for them but secretly working for us. He doesn't know we know he's a triple agent, working for them but secretly working for us but really he's secretly working for them. Dexter, how's your brain?""Hurting.

Two-thirds of all preachers, doctors and lawyers are hanging on to the coat tails of progress, shouting, whoa! while a good many of the rest are busy strewing banana peels along the line of march.

I've knitted myself a hat, it's plum red with an appealing lace pattern, I figured that a few air holes would be nice now that it's spring. I put it on and feel like a cranberry in the snow, and I wonder if they can see me from the moon. Me and the Great Wall.

There wasn't a lot of bullshit in my heaven.

We are sometimes depressed by our failure to convince people who strongly believe that we are that we are definitely not depressed.

You still are? There go my plans! And the suit I had bought to attend your funeral. Well, well. Anyway, do call me up when you an't.

Shane looked…pale. Pale and shaken and—how predictable was this?—pissed.

Shoving aside fear and self-doubt, I met his eyes, aiming for absolute confidence in both my stance and my voice. “My father taught me to disarm my opponent at all costs—regardless of his choice of weapon,” I said, glancing pointedly at his groin.“Are you threatening me?”“Damn right. Lay one hand on me and you’ll never stand to pee again.”His eyes darkened, and his laugh sounded forced. “You’re very funny, gatita.”“I’m glad you think so. I’ve always considered my sense of humor to be largely under-appreciated, so it’s nice to finally meet a fan.

Good so be would you if, duff plum of helping second A," said the Bursar. The table fell silent. "Did anyone understand that?" said Ridcully. The Bursar was not technically insane. He had passed through the rapids of insanity som time previously, and was now sculling around in some peaceful pool on the other side. He was quite often coherent, although not by normal human standards.

Balls to ten minutes.

I don’t need a personal trainer… I need someone to stalk me and threaten to kick my ass when I eat and drink stuff I’m not supposed to!

You all right, man?' This should be my name. I could be like a super hero: You All Right Man. Ah...' I stumble.Don't bug Craig,' Ronny is like. 'He's in the Craig zone. He's Craig-ing out.

Most sane human beings who have managed to attain and retain fame each uses it to dramatically increase their name’s chances of being remembered until Jesus comes back, since their heart cannot do what they consciously or unconsciously lust for, that is to say, for it to beat until Jesus returns.

Don't confuse efforts with results....

What was that?" Rich combined the pain of a crooked arm with the indignity of a flicked ear. I could only hope the situation didn't escalate to the dreaded purple nurple.

The great thing about writing fiction is that you can do whatever the fuck you want, go as far as you are willing to go, and laugh at the people who take it seriously.

Every single living thing is food to at least one living thing.

In between bites of banana, Mr. Remora would tell stories, and the children would write the stories down in notebooks, and every so often there would be a test. The stories were very short, and there were a whole lot of them on every conceivable subject. "One day I went to the store to purchase a carton of milk," Mr. Remora would say, chewing on a banana. "When I got home, I poured the milk into a glass and drank it. Then I watched television. The end." Or: "One afternoon a man named Edward got into a green truck and drove to a farm. The farm had geese and cows. The end." Mr. Ramora would tell story after story, and eat banana after banana, and it would get more and more difficult for Violet to pay attention.

There were, however, a few exceptions.One was Norma Dodsworth, the poet, who had not unpleasantly drunk but had been sensible enough to pass out before any violent action proved necessary. He had been deposited, not very gently, on the lawn, where it was hoped that a hyena would give him a rude awakening. For all practical purposes he could, therefore, be regarded as absent.

So my heart goes out to them. Figuratively. I would never actually entrust my heart to scientists—they'd probably implant it in a baboon. And a baboon with my heart would be practically unstoppable. Baboon strength and agility combined with my determination and media savvy? It would be a threat to all of humanity.