Humor Quotes - Page 187

Cynics are simply thwarted romantics.

Self-loathing is man’s effort to sweep the moon of footprints.

When Mama starts to move across a room, people pay attention. You can never be sure she's not going to grab you by the top of the head to steady herself. And she's pretty free with that walking stick, too.

...he didn’t know when he was going to get the chance to play WoW again. And it was damn important to do his bit to save all life on Azeroth while he could.

It is a popular fact that nine-tenths of the brain is not used and, like most popular facts, it is wrong. Not even the most stupid Creator would go to the trouble of making the human head carry around several pounds of unnecessary gray goo if its only real purpose was, for example, to serve as a delicacy for certain remote tribesmen in unexplored valleys.

No mountain is too high, but so many people can't climb even a hill. There is always a way to the top, but so many people can't even get the mid and many miss the way. Life is real and the journey of life comes with rules. Mind the real and distinctive rules that lead to success and you shall get to the very peak of the mountain of success surmounting all barriers, challenges and puzzles along the journey to success with a great degree of ease!

Simple minded people do things like gossip, lie, spread rumors, and cause troubles. But, I know you're more intelligent.

If a man says something in the woods and there are no women there, is he still wrong?

The trouble with being a god is that you've got no one to pray to.

Monkeys can't talk, stupid!

I’m married, honey. My social life consists of work, church, taxiing the kids around and trying to schedule sex with my husband at least once a month.

Sometimes I think books are the only friends worth having.

Horst passed him a bottle he had picked up in his rapid trip from there to here. Remarkably, it's contents had survived the transit. "Drink this," he said, unmoved by Cabal's anger. "You need to save your voice for your next session." Cabal took the bottle testily and swigged from it. there was a moments pause, just long enough for Cabal's expression to change from testy to horrified revulsion. He spat the liquid violently onto the grass like a man who has got absent-minded with the concentrated nitric acid and a mouth pipette. He glared at Horst as he took off his spectacles and wiped his suddenly weeping eyes "Disinfectant? You give me disinfectant to drink?" Horst's surprise was replaced with mild amusement. "It's root beer, Johannes. Have you never had root beer?" Cabal looked suspiciously at him, then at the bottle "People drink this?" "Yes." "For non-medical reasons?" "That's right." Cabal shook his head in open disbelief. "They must be insane.

If upper management found out, they’d send you off to the Probing Department.

You've already said you were going to kill me," Alex said, "but I didn't think that meant you were going to bore me to death.

The Googleplex Star Thinker is a super-computer from the Seventh Galaxy of Light and Ingenuity and has the ability to calculate the trajectory of every single dust particle during a five-week Dangrabad Beta sand blizzard.The Deep Thought computer call it a pocket calculator in comparison to itself.

...and now over to our foriegn allegory correspondant, Barv Tweezman." ~The Shielding of Mortimer Townes

You are the Energizer Bunny for badasses. -Ash

I think it's the duty of the comedian to find out where the line is drawn and cross it deliberately.

I don't care what you Yanks say, cheese should not whiz.

I'm trying to make some sense out of the phrase "Everything happens for a reason," and I think I've figured out what the reason is - to pissed me off.

Da. This is going very well already."Thomas barked out a laugh. "There are seven of us against the Red King and his thirteen most powerful nobles, and it's going well?"Mouse sneezed."Eight," Thomas corrected himself. He rolled his eyes and said, "And the psycho death faerie makes it nine.""It is like movie," Sanya said, nodding. "Dibs on Legolas.""Are you kidding?" Thomas said. "I'm obviously Legolas. You're . . ." He squinted thoughtfully at Sanya and then at Martin. "Well. He's Boromir and you're clearly Aragorn.""Martin is so dour, he is more like Gimli." Sanya pointed at Susan. "Her sword is much more like Aragorn's.""Aragorn wishes he looked that good," countered Thomas."What about Karrin?" Sanya asked."What--for Gimli?" Thomas mused. "She is fairly--""Finish that sentence, Raith, and we throw down," said Murphy in a calm, level voice."Tough," Thomas said, his expression aggrieved. "I was going to say 'tough.' "As the discussion went on--with Molly's sponsorship, Mouse was lobbying to claim Gimli on the basis of being the shortest, the stoutest, and the hairiest--"Sanya," I said. "Who did I get cast as?""Sam," Sanya said.I blinked at him. "Not . . . Oh, for crying out loud, it was perfectly obvious who I should have been."Sanya shrugged. "It was no contest. They gave Gandalf to your godmother. You got Sam.

So, Belle, what's new today?"Dad," I said, grasping his hands and looking directly into his eyes. "I'm in the deepest love that has ever occurred in the history of the world."Gosh, Belle. When someone asks you 'What's new?' the correct answer is 'Not much'. Besides, isn't it a little soon to cut yourself off from the rest of your peers, depending on a boyfriend to satisfy your social needs as opposed to making friends? Imagine what would happen if something forced that boy to leave! I'm imagining pages and pages would happen - with nothing but the names of the months on them.

Age is a hell of a price to pay for wisdom

We are unable to discount the hypotheses that the world began three years ago.

I love trash. I have never believed that kitsch kills. I tell you this, so you will understand that my antipathy toward 'Love Story' is not because I am immune to either sentimentality or garbage, two qualities the book possesses in abundance. When I read 'Love Story', and I cried, in much the same way that I cry from onions, involuntarily and with great irritation, I was deeply offended...

Smartass Disciple: Why we shouldn’t judge others? Master of Stupidity: Don’t! Unless you are paid for it.

New Rule: Stop putting psychedelic screensavers on computers. I sit down to check my e-mail, and the next thing I know it's three days later, I'm in the desert, I'm banging on a drum, I'm naked, and somebody's pierced my dick.

A great nose may be an indexOf a great soul

When I was in my single digits, I was subjected to the worst torture you can possibly inflict on a child: Catholic mass.

Math. It’s your favorite subject. Which surprises you. Last year your teacher tried to convince you that you had a real “aptitude” for math, but all you got in the end was a B minus. The truth is you weren’t even trying. But then you got low Cs and Ds in all your other classes and you weren’t trying there, either, so maybe you are good at math after all. tYou like it because either you’re right or you’re wrong. Not like social studies and definitely not like English, where you always have to explain your answers and support your opinions. With math it’s right or it’s wrong and you’re done with it. But even that’s changing, my teacher said now you have to explain how you solved the problem and support your answer, saying that having the right answer isn’t as important as explaining how you got it and bam, just like that, you hate math.

We'd spent maybe ten minutes together, during which time I'd accidentally swung a sword at her, she'd saved my life, and I'd run away chased by a band of supernatural killing machines. You know, your typical chance meeting.

I did the only thing I could. I said the dumbest thing any man has ever said to a woman, “Yeah, it’s just me and my trash can here,” as I patted its lid and started pushing it up the driveway.

It's woman's power, food is. You be sure you know where'n the hook is before swallerin' it, Dru. You mind me, now.

I don't fear death--I fear dying before I've read Dickens end to end.

...and Lucy." She looked like she might cry.'What about her?'"Lucy smells like food." She nearly gagged saying it.'Sol, all that's normal. Lucy smelled good before I turned, and now she smells even better. But I haven't tried to eat her face and neither will you.'"She's not safe in this house."'Safer than out there,' I argued, even though I agreed with her. 'Look, you used to eat hamburgers.'She blinked, confused. "So?"'So, did you ever walk through one of the farms at a field party and suddenly try to eat a cow?'"Um, no." Her chuckle was watery but it was better than nothing. "And, ew."'Exactly. You can crave blood and not eat your best friend.

I try to avoid having thoughts. They lead to other thoughts, and—if you’re not careful—those lead to actions. Actions make you tired. I have this on rather good authority from someone who once read it in a book.

My waist is a 30. The jeans are a 28. When I fart, the Reeboks blow off.

I never said nothing...""I know you never! I could hear you not saying anything! You've got the loudest silences I ever did hear from anyone who wasn't dead!

I can still feel my legs, thanks for asking. My back’s not even hurt that badly. Only as though I was just hit by a train.

Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope.

Men are not nearly as evolved as women are, nor as intelligent, evidently

More people would be depressed, if parents tried to please their children as frequently and as badly as children try to please their parents.

It's a pelvis thrust, not a pelvic wiggle.

She sighed, annoyed at her restlessness. “So,” she said, disrupting Wolf in another backward glance.“Who would win in a fight—you or a pack of wolves?”He frowned at her, all seriousness. “Depends,” he said, slowly, like he was trying to figure out her motive for asking. “How big is the pack?”“I don’t know, what’s normal? Six?”“I could win against six,” he said. “Any more than that and it could be a close call.”Scarlet smirked. “You’re not in danger of low self-esteem, at least.”“What do you mean?”“Nothing at all.” She kicked a stone from their path. “How about you and … a lion?”“A cat? Don’t insult me.”She laughed, the sound sharp and surprising. “How about a bear?”“Why, do you see one out there?”“Not yet, but I want to be prepared in case I have to rescue you.”The smile she’d been waiting for warmed his face, a glint of white teeth flashing. “I’m not sure. I’ve never had to fight a bear before.

I sat down and tried to write a story."Ian MacArthur is a wonderful sweet fellow who wears glasses and peers out of them with delight."That was the first sentence. The problem was that I just couldn't think of the next one. After cleaning my room three times, I decided to leave Ian alone for a while because I was starting to get mad at him.

If typos are God's way of keeping a writer humble, plot holes certainly keeps one on their knees.

Winston Gallagher!" I said, recognizing the first ghost I'de met. Then my eyes narrowed & I covered my hand in front of my crotch as I saw Winstons gaze fasten there next. "Don't even think about poltergeisting my panties again". "This is the sod? Come here you scurvy little--" "Bones don't!" I interrupted. He stopped, giving a last glare to him while mouthing YOU. ME. EXORCIST. before returning to my side.

Did you just seriously quote Grease? I think I'm gonna have to revoke your man card.

We seldom learn much from someone with whom we agree.

Not only is love blind, it’s a little hard of hearing.

The history books which contain no lies are extremely tedious

Where are you going?""Nowhere special. I just have some... things to do.""Why did you pause?'"I'm sorry?""You paused. You have 'some... things to do.'"No reason, I just--""You're up to something.""No--""Then why'd you pause?""Get in the car."She got in. He got in."Seat belt," he said.Why'd you pause?"His head drooped. "Because I'm up to somthing.""And why can't I come with you?""Because it's something sneaky.""Do you promise to tell me later?""I do.""Well all right then." She clicked her seat belt into place. "Let's go.

Two things that matter to me. Emotional resonance and rocket launchers.

What are you doing?" "Ya!" said Jane, whirling around, her hands held up menacingly. It was Mr. Nobley with coat, hat, and cane, watching her with wide eyes. Jane took several quick (but oh so casual) steps away from Martin's window. "Um, did I just say, 'Ya'?" "You just said 'Ya,'" he confirmed. "If I am not mistaken, it was a battle cry, warning that you were about to attack me.I, uh..." She stopped to laugh. "I wasn't aware until this precise and awkward moment that when startled in a startled in a strange place, my instincts would have me pretend to be a ninja.

Stephanie took another puff from her candy cigarette, reached into her purse, brought out the rest of the pack, and said, "Want one of these damned cigarettes?

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

You are never to drive like that,” I told them. “Even if you are ever wealthy enough to own a Jaguar.

In WASP families, if you don't get along with someone, you have as little to do with them as possible. In Jewish families, you move next door, to make them as miserable as possible.

All around us is a nothing that stretches on for infinity. We humans can barely comprehend that. If we comprehend it we are rarely pleased.