Humor Quotes - Page 151

The proper basis for marriage is mutual misunderstanding. The happiness of a married man depends on the people he has not married. One should always be in love - that's the reason one should never marry.

I wish we could make out in your bed."Noah sighed. "As do I, but I'm afraid we have ritual burning to conduct.""It's always something.""Isn't it though?

Now why do I feel like Little Red Riding Hood?" Daisy asked.Trav flashed a toothy smile and lunged for her neck. She squealed and squirmed, but he held on and chomped gently down her neck.She smacked his arm because she liked that a little too much. "Back off, Big Bad Wolf.

Lula," I said, "do you ever think about getting married?"I guess I do. Doesn't everybody?"You have to let your husband kiss you once you're married. And you have to kiss him

My motto for fashion: If you can’t afford to make an elegant statement, make a ridiculous one.

If everyone wants to be somebody, I want to be somebody else

If my doctor told me I had only six minutes to live, I wouldn't brood. I'd type a little faster.

Caroline stamped her foot in frustration, but when it landed, it landed on something considerablyless flat than the floor."Owww!" he yelled.Oh! His foot!Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry , she mouthed.I didn't mean it."If you think I can understand that," he growled, "you're crazier than I'd originally thought.

Emblematic of this era was the prolific Viennese surgeon Theodor Billroth. Born in 1821, Billroth studied music and surgery with almost equal verve. (The professions still often go hand in hand. Both push manual skill to its limit; both mature with practice and age; both depend on immediacy, precision, and opposable thumbs.)

Once I had her clean, I wrapped her in a towel and carried her back to the bed. A small red bloodstain was on the sheets, and again the possessive monster inside me threw back his head and roared his pleasure. I stood there holding her and letting the proof I was the only man to be inside her wash over me.Blythe turned her head, and I felt her stiffen in my arms. “Oh, I can clean that up,” she said, starting to wiggle.I pulled her tighter to my chest. “No. I’m going to dry you off and hold you some more. I like seeing that blood. I did that,” The pleasure in my voice made Blythe smile.

The great lie that science has given us is that reality is material.

A stóirín, ya are a handful of trouble, but I kind of like it.

She hadn’t planned any of this, but her thoughts ran away with her, and she hated how pathetic she must sound. Poor little human needed the big bad angel to rescue her. Yuck.

If you were crossing the road and saw a black cat passing, you may possibly get hit by a car, or a mail boy or the sky could rain in summer, possibly snow. Those were theories, none of them were true. It was like karma; it only happens to you if you believed in them. Myths, Cecilia called them. The guy looked frozen. This is silly, she thought. He could not be that affected by the cat. Cecilia had been working here for a year and she wasn’t struck by lightning, she was alive, of course, nobody chose the cat so this is why she was the oldest pet in the store.

And then Jack chopped down what was the world's last beanstalk, adding murder and ecological terrorism to the theft, enticement, and trespass charges already mentioned, and all the giant's children didn't have a daddy anymore. But he got away with it and lived happily ever after, without so much as a guilty twinge about what he had done...which proves that you can be excused for just about anything if you are a hero, because no one asks inconvenient questions.

Slender Youth. A tour companion who may be either a lost prince or a girl/princess in disguise. In the latter case it is tactful to pretend you think she is a boy. She/he will be ignorant, hasty and shy, and will need hauling out of trouble quite a lot. But she/he will grow up in the course of the Tour. In fact she/he will be the only Companion who will change in any way. Quite often, she/he will soon exhibit a very useful talent for magic and end up by hauling everyone else out of trouble. But this will not be until midway through your second brochure.

Live the message, don't just read about it and preach.

She was thinking of doing a little Cuervo therapy.

Being a Gentleman, has more to do with hiding his flaws, than exhibiting the virtues!

Just a little off the top!"- A. Boleyn

Are you just a car salesman or are you a poet too?” “I've never been accused of poetry before.

Of course, it is quite possible to be in the dark in the dark, but there are so many secrets in the world that it is likely that you are always in the dark about one thing or another, whether you are in the dark in the dark or in the dark not in the dark, although the sun can go down so quickly that you may be in the in the dark about being in the dark, only to look around and find yourself no longer in the dark about being in the dark, but in the dark in the dark nontheless, not only because of the dark, but because of the ballerinas in the dark, who are not in the dark about the dark, but also not in the dark about the locked cabinet, and you may be in the dark about the ballerinas digging up the locked cabinet in the dark, even though you are no longer in the dark about being in the dark, and so you are in fact in the dark about being in the dark, even though you are not in the dark about being in the dark, and so you may fall into the hole that the ballerinas have dug, which is dark, in the dark, and in the park.

I see the beginning, I see the end. And in the middle I just hope I don't fall on my ass to much

Giving is the only way of taking part

Maybe taming my tongue will be good for me in the end. But it's pretty hard when you've got a world filled with idiots from Drunkopolis.

I read the first few," said Jackaby. "I've instructed my duck to just file the rest directly under P. I left it to him to decide if that was for politics or paranoia.

Locke sighed.'So this is winning,' he said.'It is,' replied Jean. 'It can go fuck itself,' said Locke.

Max replies, "Why the fuck n- Oh man, are you gettin' lucky?"I quickly do up Asher's jeans and stand. Max bursts into laughter when he sees my head ascend and chuckles, "Shit, guys. Warn a brother. Did you at least finish?"Ash smiles big fluffling my hair, I tell Max, "I never start something I don't plan to finish."Ash wraps his arm around me and Max shakes his head. He says, "Well if you two don't mind, I think I'm gonna make this a blowjob free zone from now on.

So the first thing we're gonna do," I told him, "is push you off the roof.

...Bryan pumped his fist. “Stakeout! Will I be in plain clothes?” “Wear whatever you want as long as it’s dark,” Kirsten answered with a smile. “Permission to get snacks for my stakeout, ma’am!” Bryan said loudly as he sprung to attention.

Alas, my being the James Bond of vampires isn't the whole issue. Vanity must wait.

Take any two-year-old through a car wash and their skulls are blown. FLAPS! FOAM! ROLLING THINGS! It's the closest they'll ever get to being inside a working spaceship.

They mean hot like 'I'm too good for you I got my own money don't be frontin' me.' You're more like 'Be my boyfriend I'll make you cookies come meet my dad ' know what I mean

What is it that we do here? By easing away from the mania that pulls on us, recalling and reconnecting with our essential spirit and callings, we regenerate our core inspiration and faith in Life and our place within it…with a purposeful eye toward facilitating evolution toward ‘More capable human beings,’ meaning grander, freer, more authentic and meaningfully effective.How do we do that? By delving into pockets of rituals that have, across traditions and cultures, produced superior forms of insight and understanding, healing, evolution and resolution. One could call these tunnels into beauty, truth and love. And we can find access to them in any given day of our lives.

And Nate? You kiss like a slobbering dog, you have bad breath, and you wouldn't know how to punch the right buttons on a girl if we came with manuals. Happy Thanksgiving, Jackass.

Death's got an Invisibility Cloak?" Harry interrupted again."So he can sneak up on people," said Ron. "Sometimes he gets bored of running at them, flapping his arms and shrieking...

...When a man first awakens, it sometimes takes several moments before he starts thinking clearly.""And here I thought it took several years, perhaps a lifetime for the average man's intellect to kick in.

Ah, adventure! Ah, romance! Ah, courtly graces and the noble gestures! Don't you wish you knew people like that? Don't you wish we could still walk around in cloaks and boots and breeches, with leather doublets and flowing white dueling shirts and swords strapped around our waists? Of course, if we did, given the way things are today, there'd be people out there lobbying for sword control, and we'd need a National Sword Association and bumper stickers that would read "Swords don't kill people, knights kill people," and there would be a five-day waiting period and background check before you could buy a rapier. We'd have drive-by lungings and people would be afraid of children carrying broadswords to school. "Milady" would be regard as a sexist term and feminists would go absolutely berserk if any woman called a man "Milord." Ralph Nader would probably get quarter horses banned because they are too small and unsafe in a collision and someone would figure out a way to put seat belts and air bags on our saddles. That's why people join the SCA and read fantasy novels, because the real world sucks.

Hold onto your creativity, that idealism that is rooted in some degree of innocence and a firm belief in something finer than the things we already have.

I really am happy for Kiley. And for you and every other happily married lady. Except for that I'm not happy for you. I kind of want you all to drop dead.

The trouble with having an open mind, of course, is that people will insist on coming along and trying to put things in it.

If there is anyone here whom I have not insulted, I beg his pardon.

You know, I preferred you as an evil monk. Would have made killing you a whole lot easier.

Every working mother has the things she dreads, things that keep her up in the night – pink eye, an ear infection, the parent-teacher conference, the school play – all forcing her to remind the people she works with that she is not, in fact, wholly devoted to business enterprises, but has another secret life. For me, the night terror is the 5 a.m. phone call from the nanny.

Supplementing the far, remote Glory-of-God expression in his face, the glory-of-doughnuts shone suddenly very warmly.

The best stories come from deep within us and are of us. Either our inner child comes out to play and makes all things possible, or we mold our characters and events from our own experiences, or our dreams of wanting to experience.

All the world's a stage and most of us are desperately unrehearsed.

An original idea. That can't be too hard. The library must be full of them.

Is this neuro-bot really supposed to be her, this creature, this thing, compiled of the ghosts of human data, the replicas of their past?

I suppose you had to," Wes said when Phin went back to join him at the table."Pretty much. She seduced me.""Yeah, right," Wes said. "She said, 'Please fix the kitchen drain,' and you interpreted that--""She said, 'Fuck me.' " Phin put two balls on the table and picked up his cue. "I interpreted that to mean she wanted sex.""Oh." Wes picked up his cue. "That would have been my call, too." He squinted at the table. "Why would she have said that?""On a guess? Because she wanted sex.

Well, I don't know, Lina. But let's just say I've met a lot of dead people.

There are occult Esoteric Metaphysics (the secret and most confidential aspect of occult teachings) and Mystical Sciences practiced by mystical adepts, Living Grand Masters. This is the cosmological verdict of the Order of Astral and Terrestrial Hierarchy universal occult recognition. Exoteric is public occult teachings. An Adept uses the Technique of the Master. Hell is called After-Life-Hallucination. There are entities, spirits, demons, demi-gods, Archangels and other names for evil beings. A Guru is a spiritual Master.

I'm not sure if there's one right place I'm supposed to be, he said, but I know a couple of wrong places I'd give a second try in a heartbeat.

It’s fascinating. You know all these words, and they’re all English, but when you string them together into sentences, they just don’t make any sense.

Oh fuck, he was right there. I was wet as hell and he could probably smell me now. I should have eaten strawberries or melon or a dozen roses or an entire mint plant. Did that work for women? I read an article that it worked for men. Their spunk tasted like what they ate. Did my vagina taste like spaghetti right now? God dammit! I shouldn't have eaten dinner!

One girl raved about a nice voicemail a guy had recently left her. I kindly requested she play it and heard this gem: 'Hey, Lydia. It's Sam. Just calling to say what's up. Gimme a ring when you get a chance.'THAT WAS IT.I pleaded to know what was so great about this. She sweetly recalled that 'he remembered my name, he said hi, and he told me to call him back.'Never mind the fact that what she described was the content of LITERALLY EVERY VOICE MAIL IN HISTORY. Name, hello, please call back. Not really a boatload of charm on display. To fail this test, a guy would have to leave a message that said: 'No greeting. This is man. I don't remember you. End communication.

What's the trick to remembering that a sandwich is masculine? What qualities does it share with anyone in possession of a penis? I'll tell myself that a sandwich is masculine because if left alone for a week or two, it will eventually grow a beard.

I am not mean I am just sarcastically humorous

I'd go to the end of the world for my husband. Of course, if he'd just stop and ask directions, I wouldn't have to.

I'll not listen to reason... reason always means what someone else has got to say.