Hilarious Quotes - Page 6

Some people love but will never marry each other. Some are married to but have never loved and will never love each other.

Her name badge read: Hello! My name is DIE, DEMIGOD SCUM!

Are you super strong? Can you be hurt?""Of course I can," replied Dimitri. "I'm strong, but all sorts of things can still hurt me."And then being Rose Hathaway, I said something I really shouldn't have to the boy. "You should go punch him and find out."Jonathan's mother screamed again, but he was a fast little bastard, eluding her grasp. He ran up to Dimitri before anyone could stop him-well, I could have-and pounded his tiny fist against Dimitri's knee.Then, which the same reflexes that allowed him to dodge enemy attacks, Dimitri immediately feinted falling backward, as though Jonathan had knocked him over. Clutching his knee, Dimitri groaned as though he were in terrible pain.Several people laughed, and by then, one of the other guardians had caught hold of Jonathan and returned him to his near-hysterical mother. As he was being dragged away, Jonathan glanced over his shoulder at Dimitri. "He doesn't seem very strong to me. I don't think he's a Strigoi.

A peevish self-willed harlotry it is.*She’s a stubborn little brat.*

(Seth) “So,” he said, looking me up and down, “you’re what the fuss was all about. I can’t say I’m impressed.” He sneered at me. “Still riding bulls, cowboy?”(Weber) “Nope.” I smirked at him. “I only ride his cock now.

If you want to know what the camel stole from your kitchen yesterday, then you shouldn;t slit open its stomach. You should stare into its arsehole.

You're not used to early mornings, are you?"He shook his head. "Early mornings were invented by the system to keep the people occupied. But not me. I'm on to them. They're not gonna catch me napping. Metaphorically, like. Obviously, they can catch me physically napping like, four or five times a day, but, metaphorically, I am so far beyond their reach.

I had a fair idea how it felt to get spanked with a large flat surface, and my rump clenched in sympathy.

Tex's head snapped in my direction.Fuckin' A, woman, you've never had a s'more? he boomedI shook my head.Christ, everyone's gotta have a s'more before they die. Fuck that shit, I'll build a fire in my backyard tonight and I'll stop by Kumar's on the way home to get the stuff. Everyone can come by-

Just remember: when your nerd talks to someone about "man tar", it has nothing to do with the stickiness on your sheets.

Unbeknown to us, some of the people who we hope are missing us wherever they are do miss us; some miss someone else; and some are dead.

Shane waved a hand. “Please, we know that all ittakes to get into your pants is a Hot Pocket and aNetFlix rental.

I placed my hand on his chest. “You don’t need to worry about Reece.”“I know, I know. He’s nothing compared to my magnificence.” His fingers stroked mine and his eyes softened. “But just out of curiosity, how do you feel about getting my name tattooed on your forehead?

Neythen looked perplexed. 'My mum always said I'm named after a saint, not an illness.''Which one?''Well he had his head chopped off, see? And then he picked it up and carried it down the road a time. All the way back home, I think.''Messy,' Piers said. 'Not to mention unlikely, though one has to think of chickens and their post-mortal abilities. Did she think that you would inherit the same gift?'Neythen blinked. 'No, my lord.''Perhaps she was just hopeful. It behooves mothers to look ahead to this sort of possibility, after all. I'm tempted to behead you just to see if she was right.Sometimes the most unlikely superstitions turn out to have a basis in fact.

No, you don’t get to touch yourself in my car.”“Why not?” It wasn’t a whine, it wasn’t. My voice was too deep to whine. It was more of a… whoan. Or something. I couldn’t think.“Three reasons. One, I don’t want to get into an accident trying to keep my eyes on you. Two, if I got into an accident, or if we were pulled over for indecent exposure, the mood killing would be the least of our problems. Three,” and here it was, the tone I loved, that I could barely wait for even though I knew I wasn’t going to like what he had to say, “for the rest of the night, that’s mine. Don’t touch it.

There once was a man from Des MoinesWhose wife was always annoyedHe stepped in the kitchenShe started her bitchin'Now that fucking cunt is dead.

Short answer 'No,' Long answer 'Yes,' with a 'But

First, if you participate in Movember, fuck you. Second, if you want to raise money for prostate cancer (a noble cause), do it the old-fashioned way, by either begging for it or exerting yourself physically for donations. Sitting on your ass and letting nature take its course above your upper lip is not the same thing as running a 10K at a local high school or breaking out the set of power tools your dad gave you as a housewarming present collecting dust in your garage and using them to go out and build a habitat for humanity. Maybe I can raise money for rectal cancer by getting people to pledge a dollar every time I take a shit. And third no one wants to see that horrific seventies pornstache growing like a caterpillar with cerebral palsy zigzagging across your face; you look like you're about to go door to door informing people that you're a registered sex offender who's just moved in next door and would their kids like to come out and was your windowless van for a dollar?Fuck Movember. And November.

So you need an alarm system because you gonna be in bad neighborhoods?""Actually, I sort of stole a car, and I'm afraid the owner will try to get it back.

Huh," said Percy. "Never seen Jason fly before. He looks like a blond superman.

Oh, poor baby,” she said, mimicking his drawl.“Whew. You’re back. There was this other Susie here a minute ago, and she was really nice to me. She scared the shit out of me.”She laughed. “They locked her back up in the loony bin.”“Good, because there’s only one Susie for me—the one who calls me on my crap and doesn’t let me get away with jack shit. That’s the Susie I need. That’s the Susie I’ve missed coming home to over the last year.” He kissed her. “And that’s the Susie who’s going to leave a gaping hole in my heart and my life if she doesn’t give me another chance.

Mr. Babcock pats my shoulder. He smiles, and the caterpillar mustache — the envy of state troopers everywhere, I'm sure — straightens out again. I hear that on the weekends, he's a part-time security guard with mirrored sunglasses and a gun. He probably poses in front of his bathroom mirror to see how he looks saying "Freeze!

Cryptic Dad is cryptic,' I muttered ... We'd hung out all day today. Was there no time in there he could have said, 'Oh, hey, meet me at the magical bookcase at the butt-crack of dawn tomorrow, cool?

Sqwaak!" from Fletcher, the environmental crime fighting parrot in The Big Belch graphic novel by Kay Wood.

The front door slammed and Dad said, “Aurora, sure you aren’t expecting a package?”I leaned back to find him army-crawling under the window in the living room. Like all dads do. “Already told you no, Rambo.”“The new mailman is back.” Dad reached up and pulled the curtains closed before standing up and peeking out. “Won’t come to the door.”“M shot a tranquillizer dart at the last guy.” Mom gave a tired look at M who shrugged unapologetically. “The fact that there’s a new one willing to be on our sidewalk is a miracle. Don’t scare him off, Clyde.”Dad tried to block me when I went for the curtains. “He won’t let me sign for your package. Demanded you come out in person.”“I’ll get my tranq gun!” M made for her room.“Don’t you dare!” Mom chased her.I swished back the curtains to get a look at the petrifying postman. “I find his interest in my teenage daughter creepy,” Dad grumbled.Oh, he had no idea.

She winced and covered her ears as Eric,onstage, wrestled with his microphone."Sorry about that, guys!" he yelled. "All right. I'm Eric, and this is my homeboy Matt on the drums. My first poem is called 'Untitled.'" He screwed up his face as if in pain, and wailed into the mike. "Come my faux juggernaut, my nefarious loins! Slather every protuberance with arid zeal!"Simon slid down in his seat. "Please don't tell anyone I know him."Clary giggled. "Who uses the word 'loins'?""Eric," Simon said grimly. "All his poems have loins in them."'Turgid is my torment!" Eric wailed. "Agony swells within!""You bet it does," Clary said.

Ramon Ramon is a riot. Totally paranoid, gangsta detective. Been reading it with my girlfriend on study breaks and it always gives us a good laugh. Not usually into fiction, but i've been giving this a shot as recommended. With all the heaviness this is relief in its lightness. Go get em Ramon.

Some people would not be dead if they have not gotten the things or people they had prayed for.

Whenever He answers prayers, God usually prioritizes those by people who, instead of their mouths, have prayed with their hands and/or feet.

Some people would not have remained with their partners, if the unfortunate things that have happened to them had happened to their partners, or if the fortunate things that have happened to their partners had happened to them.

Passing their toilet training is the very last thing that some adults did that has made their parents proud of them.

We love being mentally strong, but we hate situations that allow us to put our mental strength to good use.

My inner caveman demands she knows I'm a good provider. I'll get her the best booth, order any food she wants, kill potential predators, and buy her the best cave on the block".

Some people wouldn’t still be sane, if they were not religious or superstitious; some wouldn’t be disabled or dead.

Now that he knew there was the possibility of gay porn in his future he was a happy hamster.

When she and Wren divided up their clothes, Wren had taken anything that said "party at a boy's place" or "leaving the house." Cath had taken everything that said "up all night writing" or "it's okay to spill tea on this."" (pg. 189)

Her gaze flickered to the balcony doors and back, her brows knitted in confusion. “My balcony doesn’t connect to yours.”“I jumped.” He grinned at the flash of concern he saw in “her eyes. “At dinner, your grandmother informed me that you’d be moving to the room beside mine. She also mentioned how close my balcony was to yours; so close that even an old lady like herself could leap between the two without the least effort.”Venetia’s cheeks heated and she pulled her nightgown closer. “Grandmama is anything but subtle.”“Almost as subtle as your mother.”“Oh, no! Not Mama, too.”Gregor paused beside a small table to pick up a silver tray holding a cut crystal decanter and matching glasses and set it on the table before Venetia. “Your mother was concerned I might be afraid of heights. She told me that if she were thinking of jumping between the balconies and couldn’t bring herself to make the leap, it might be possible to pick the lock on the connecting door with, say, a cravat pin.”Venetia blushed. “I’m surprised they aren’t in here now, throwing rose petals before you as you walk.”“I would never countenance petal tossing. Too showy.

You! You tricked me! I never want to see you or that bottle of liquid arsenic again!”I chucked the empty moonshine jug at him. Or tried to. It missed him by a dozen feet.He picked it up in astonishment. “You drank the whole bloody thing? You were only supposed to have a few sips!”“Did you say that? Did you?” He reached me just as I felt the ground tip. “Didn’t say anything. I’ve got those names, so that’s all that matters, but you men…you’re all alike. Alive, dead, undead—all perverts! I had a drunken pervert in my pants! Do you know how unsanitary that is?”Bones held me upright. I would have protested, but I couldn’t remember how to. “What are you saying?”“Winston poltergeisted my panties, that’s what!” I announced with a loud hiccup.“Why, you scurvy, lecherous spook!” Bones yelled in the direction of the cemetery. “If my pipes still worked, I’d go right back there and piss on your grave!

Halt regarded him. He loved Horace like a younger brother. Even like a second son, after will. He admired his skill with a sword and his courage in battle. But sometimes, just sometimes, he felt an overwhelming desire to ram the young warrior's head against a convenient tree.

We have glorified wealth and freedom so much that it is impossible for most of us to truly believe that a man can truly be happy in a shack or within the confines of a prison cell.

because daytime leaves vampires less than, well, conscious, I told him, “Take your muffins to Boston and shut it, Terrance.” And then I hung up on him.

I don't lack for bed partners, so I don't need to scrounge for unwilling scraps.-Spade

Valkyrie stood there and waited for her to start making sense."There is a vegetable-plant hybrid we've been working on, modifying the genes and receptors, mutating the proteins and acids so that they are, in effect, neurotransmitters. Our work on the synapses alone has been quite illuminating."Valkyrie stood there and waited for her to start making sense.

I was going straight for Mantis, but then that bloody gas got in my eyes and, I don't know, some massive bloke reared up in front of me. I hit him, but I swear, it was like hiting a wall."Gracious nodded. "You hit a wall."Maybury blinked at him. "I what?""I saw it. You ran into a cloud of gas and stumbled around for a second until you reached a wall, and then you shrieked and punched it. It was very heroic.

Marketing is so powerful that it can make even an extremely untalented musician a one-hundred-hits wonder.

The priest DID have it coming, though," Lelldorin declared hotly."What priest?""The priest of Chaldan at that little chapel who wouldn't marry us because Arianna couldn't give him a document proving she had her family's consent. He was very insulting.""Did you break anything?""A few of his teeth is about all-- and I stopped hitting him as soon as he agreed to perform the ceremony.

Do you have nicknames for any of your other brothers?"The youngster squinted his dark gray eyes in concentration. "Well, Tristan is Dare, and sometimes he's Tris; and Bradshaw is Shaw; and sometimes we call Andrew, Drew, but he doesn't like that very much.""Why not?""He says it's a girls' name, and then Shaw calls him Drusilla.

And after his unparsable response, including a passage where he said he was 'blurring the boundaries between a thing and thought,' she said, 'Thank you, I get lost sometimes,' while laying two fingers on his folded arm.

The alien in my uncle hand obviously taken full control. Soon, it would claw its way out of his stomach and tap dance across my bed

Oh- and grab the plastic bag over by my suitcase."I slug down the last of the coffee and get up. The bag contains panty hose. I put them on her desk."They're for you.""You want me to look homeless, desperate, but also kind of fabulous?

What’s your rank of choice?”Juliet started, nearly spilling her cup of lemonade. “Pardon?”Drake gestured to all the other men in the room. “Every rank from a duke down to a second son who became a vicar is available for your choosing. Any rank strike your fancy?”“I believe you’re incorrect,” she said, looking over all the men in the room. “I see one second son-vicar, one baron―” she turned to him―“one viscount, two earls, and one duke. But alas, no marquis.”His brown eyes lit with mischief. “I’d say that I stand corrected, but I do not. There is a marquis on the premises. If you’d like to dance with him, I’ll see if a servant can fetch him from the nursery.

People have been sleeping and/or marrying their way to the top since the first cavewoman said: ‘Ugh, that one’s the strongest and has the biggest club. I’ll shake my mastodon-skin-covered ass at him.’”“Ugh?”“Or whatever cave people said. And it’s not just women who do it. Cave guy goes: ‘Ugh, that one catches the most fish, I’ll be dragging her off to my cave now.’ Ava sees Tommy and—”“Says ugh.”“Or today’s equivalent thereof.”-Eve & Roarke. .

What is it that Australians celebrate on 26 January? Significantly, many of them are not quite sure what event they are commemorating. Their state of mind fascinated Egon Kisch, an inquisitive Czech who was in Sydney at the end of January 1935. Kisch has a place in our history as the victim, or hero, of a ludicrous chapter in the history of our immigration laws. He had been invited to Melbourne for a Congress against War and Fascism, and was forbidden to land by order of the attorney-general, R. G. Menzies. He had jumped overboard, broken his leg, gone to hospital, failed a dictation test in Gaelic and been sentenced to imprisonment and deportation. When the High Court declared Gaelic not a language, Kisch was free to hobble on our soil...

There would be fewer absent fathers, if straight men were turned on only by women with whom they would not mind having children.

We are all beautiful creation of God.

Who’s a** is this?” Mo asked...“Mine!” Mykel shouted.Mo stilled and then laughed. Mykel thought about what he said and then felt his face heat up from embarrassment. “I mean yours.” “God, I love you,” Mo said...

Come on," he said. "Bring the poker."I brought the tongs as well. I felt like it.

Not every single way of saying the right thing is right.

Don't threaten me with a good time.

The point is, if we find out you’ve been horrible to Harry —”“— and make no mistake, we’ll hear about it.“even if you won’t let Harry use the fellytone