Humor Quotes - Page 189

She was not sorry. And if it was the wine telling her that, then she would tell the wine the same thing tomorrow. She was not sorry.

I don't know much about being a millionaire, but I'll bet I'd be darling at it.

Books are to me as homemade tattoos are to an inmate. Can't get enough of them.

He’d spent so much time in the penalty box for fighting last season, he’d been tempted to hang a picture and maybe set up a lava lamp, it had felt so much like home

Finally! You're here!"Uh....Do I know you?"Well, no....But you're here, all the same...

Watching Jace hug Isabelle, she tried to school her features into a happy and loving expression."Are you all right?" Simon asked, with some concern. "Your eyes are crossing.

Hope you didn't bring any spiders into the van with you,' Simon put in. 'Hey, I'm thinking we could take you back outside and hose you down, just to make sure. You'd definitely smell better if we did, which, I mean, bonus.' Jeremy scraped both hands through his hair again, then beat them clean against his thighs. 'Believe me, Simon, if we had access to a garden hose, I'd be the first to turn it on myself. I feel foul.''Hate to break it to you, Archer, but that feeling is not lying to you,' Simon said with mild relish.

What do you consider the most interesting man-made structure in the galaxy?The dam they are building at the Three Gorges on the Yangtse. Though perhaps '“baffling'” would be a better word. Dams almost never do what they were intended to do, but create devastation beyond belief. And yet we keep on building them, and I can'’t help but wonder why. I'’m convinced that if we go back far enough in the history of the human species, we will find some beaver genes creeping in there somewhere. It'’s the only explanation that makes sense.

Congress should make it so that all sex scenes in all films should be provided with a screaming baby sound track. That should help take away all the fun and may show a major decrease in unwanted pregnancies without having to provide birth control to anyone.

When David wasn't ruling, he would ponder all the various forms of laughter there could be. So far, he had only categorized four: laughter at your own expense, laughter at the expense of others, laughter at the human predicament, and laughter at small animals falling off tables.

Tammaru’s office looked like NASA’s control room designed by Donald Trump.

Alan: "I had terrible stage fright."Sin: "I'm not familiar with the concept of 'stage fright.'"A: "It's pretty awful. You end up having to picture the entire audience in their underwear. Phyllis was in that audience, you know."S: "Why, Alan, I had no idea your tastes ran that way."A: "Phyllis is a very nice lady. And I do not consider her so much aged as matured, like a fine wine. But I still think you owe me an archery lesson.

Go thy way to a woman with child, and ask of her when she had fulfilled her nine months, if her womb may keep the birth any longer within her.

I was thinking...""We know," Pedro said, "It was like sitting next to a pressure cooker

You can't have a heart attack and leave me an orphan. You know I'd just blow all our money on drugs and rock'n'roll.""All the best heroes are orphans," Dad said. "You'd be in good company, if you went on a quest or something." He looked at the other girls. "You're not orphans, are you?""Not me," they both answered."You'll never amount to anything....

I don't have any special talents, just an ordinary desire to live like a human being.

If I have a spreadsheet that can, whatever, turn soup cans into gold, wouldn't I deserve an office?

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

You are quite possibly the least smooth guy I know,” she mumbled. “You can’t even put your arm around me without tripping up.

When I die, I want them to bury me facedown and ass up so that the whole world can kiss my ass!

Does the king know you're back?""Nope! I'm trying to think of a properly dramatic way to inform him. Perhaps a hundred chasmfiends marching in unison, singing an ode to my magnificence.""That sounds… hard.""Yeah, the storming things have real trouble tuning their tonic chords and maintaining just intonation.""I have no idea what you just said.""Yeah, the storming things have real trouble tuning their tonic chords and maintaining just intonation.

Love has a way of making the sane insane and the insane normal.

There is no greater crime than a crime against humanity. There is no greater crime against humanity than usury. The greatest violence, and the greatest threat to humanity, is the growth of MONEY.

Hindoo wisdom long ago regarded the world as the dream of Brahma. Must we hold with Fichte that it is the individual dream of each individual ego? Every fool would then be a cosmogonic poet producing the firework of the universe under the dome of the infinite.

Yakka foob mog. Grug pubbawup zink wattoom gazork. Chumble spuzz. I love loopholes.

If the 4th "dimension" is blocked, which is a kind of cosmic umbrella, through which 5D through 9D and higher are designed to operate in physical realms, being non-physical, then the Devil who controls "the spice" controls everything. It would be easy to continue with the reasons behind death, terrible plague on earth.

I HAVE SOME QUESTIONS ABOUT KING TRITON. Specifically, King, why are you elderly but with the body of a teenage Beastmaster? How do you maintain those monster pecs? Do they have endocrinologists under the sea? Because I am scheduling you some bloodwork......Question: How come, when they turn back into humans at the end of Beauty and the Beast, Chip is a four-year-old boy, but his mother, Mrs. Potts, is like 107? Perhaps you're thinking, "Lindy, you are remembering it wrong. That kindly, white-haired, snowman-shaped Mrs. Doubtfire situation must be Chip's grandmother." Not so, champ! She's his mom. Look it up. She gave birth to him four years ago... As soon as you become a mother, apparently, you are instantly interchangeable with the oldest woman in the world, and / or sixteen ounces of boiling brown water with a hat on it. Take a sec and contrast Mrs. Pott's literally spherical body with the cut-diamond abs of King Triton, father of seven.

I always arrive late at the office, but I make up for it by leaving early.

I'm an open book. But some of the pages are stuck together.

These are all direct quotes, except every time they use a curse word, I'm going to use the name of a famous American poet:'You Walt Whitman-ing, Edna St. Vincent Millay! Go Emily Dickinson your mom!''Thanks for the advice, you pathetic piece of E.E. Cummings, but I think I'm gonna pass.''You Robert Frost-ing Nikki Giovanni! Get a life, nerd. You're a virgin.''Hey bro, you need to go outside and get some fresh air into you. Or a girlfriend.'I need to get a girlfriend into me? I think that shows a fundamental lack of comprehension about how babies are made.

Immediately after a divorce or a breakup, your mind whispers that there are plenty more fish in the sea, while your heart shouts that there is only one whoever-you-just-divorced-or-broke-up-with.

I think one of the problems in this country is that too many people are screwing things up, committing crimes and then getting on with their lives. What is really needed for public officials who shame themselves is ritual suicide.

We assassinate. We don't accessorize. But I understand how it is possible to confuse the two.

Secretly, deep down, everybody on Earth believes they can write poetry, apart from the members of the Poets' Guild, who know they can't.

If I had still been an immortal, I might have flirted with her myself. But I was now a sixteen-year-old boy. My mortal form was working its way upon my state of mind. I saw Sally Jackson as a mom—a fact that both consternated and embarrassed me. I thought about how long it had been since I had called my own mother. I should probably take her to lunch when I got back to Olympus.

Wow. This place looks classy. The smell of fertilizer and rot is really in this season. Remind me, what are we doing here?” she asked looking at him with a coy smile. “Did we come for bait?

Day had gotten a little nervous during one session when the doctor asked God how he would handle someone hurting Day now and his lover responded by jerking one side of his leather coat open and pulling his long blade from its sheathe. “Easy, I’d cut their fucking arm off and beat the shit out of them with it,” he’d said. But Day quickly started laughing and told the concerned doctor that his partner was just playing. After popping God hard in his stomach, God agreed and said he was indeed joking. When the doctor went back to writing on her legal pad, God mouthed to him, “No I’m not.

Pride is all very well, but a sausage is a sausage.

His eyes burned with intensity. I wondered briefly if someonehe knew was being held in that cold room that smelled like death. Someone he loved?

I was tired of this silly joking about my 'speaking countenance'. I could keep a secret as well as anyone. Poirot had always persisted in the humiliating belief that I am a transparent character and that anyone can read what is passing in my mind.

I had heard my brothers and sisters use curse words but had never dared use one myself in front of anyone. But I had practiced alone in my room lots of times, trying out different cadences and into nations: 'Fuck, fuck, fuck you, fucknut. Shit, shitstain, fucker! Go fuck a duck, you asswipe!' My favorite was, 'What a fucking cocksucker.' The plan was to say this casually to one of my new friends while one of our teachers walked by. No one in kindergarten ever really got my sense of humor, so I was hell-bent on making my mark in the first grade.

We, Seth, Emperor of Azania, Chief of the Chiefs of Sakuyu, Lord of Wanda and Tyrant of the Seas, Bachelor of the Arts of Oxford University, being in this the twenty-fourth year of our life, summoned by the wisdom of Almighty God and the unanimous voice of our people to the throne of our ancestors, do hereby proclaim...

Before we go, I gotta know: If mind-reading abilities are real, there's something else I wondered if fiction got right about vampires-""Ask me if I sparkle and I'll kill you where you stand," Bones cut him off with utmost seriousness.

I'll drive like my grandma. I'll drive like your grandma.""You wouldn't say that if you knew my gramma.

Yossarian was moved very deeply by the absolute simplicity of this clause of Catch-22 and let out a respectful whistle.'That's some catch, that Catch-22,' he observed.'It's the best there is,' Doc Daneeka agreed.Yossarian saw it clearly in all its spinning reasonableness. There was an elliptical precision about its perfect pairs of parts that was graceful and shocking, like good modern art, and at times Yossarian wasn't quite sure he saw it at all, just the way he was never quite sure about good modern art or about the flies Orr saw in Appleby's eyes. he had Orr's word to take for Appleby's eyes.

Ptah held up his mug. “Do you realize, we’ve fought together, starved together, bled together, endured slavery, and looked into the jaws of death...”“But we never drank together!” Marcus finished, clanking his mug to Ptah’s.“Exactly! The drink flows freely, and we must make up for lost time, ha ha ha!

They don't fit you?" V asked his roommate."Not the point. No offense, but these are wicked Village People." Butch held his heavy arms out and turned in a circle, his bare chest catching the light. "I mean, come on.""They're for fighting, not fashion.""So are kilts, but you don't see me rocking the tartan.""And thank God for that. You're too bowlegged to pull that shit off."Butch assumed a bored expression. "You can bite

To call the place an anthill would be like calling the Versailles Palace a single-family home. Earthen ramparts rose almost to the tops of the surrounding trees--a hundred feet at least. The circumference could have accommodated a Roman hippodrome. A steady stream of soldiers and drones swarmed in and out of the mound. Some carried fallen trees. One, inexplicably, was dragging a 1967 Chevy Impala.

The meeting was like a war council with donuts. Then again, back at Camp Half-Blood they used to have their most serious discussions around the Ping-Pong table in the rec room with crackers and Cheez Whiz, so Percy felt right at home.

I'm not scared of death, I just don't want to seek it out.

I have nothing to declare except my genius.

Just wait until he figures out I shut him out of his slut hut.

Integrity is a bugger, it really is. Lying can get you into difficulties, but to really wind up in the crappers try telling nothing but the truth.

And by the way, I know my title said “10 Reasons” and I only listed “6”. I didn’t learn to count in college.

I went to watch the Buzkasgu game taking place on a series of fields - some fallow, some plowed and planted- just to the east of the empty Buddha niches. Buzkashi is a form of polo played with a dead goat instead of a ball.

Dr. Pervy-PantsDr. DepravityDr. Ain't-Puttin'-OutDr. Bossy-as-FuckDr. Obsessive-CompulsiveDr. KinkybonesDr. DeviantDr. Oh-So-Proper-I-Iron-My-JeansDr. Lick-My-BootsDr. Smug-as-ShitDr. Love-Me-Love-My-Butt-NozzleDr. Damn-Your-Dick-is-Motherfucking-BigDr. Full-of-ShitDr. Smack-a-LotDr. Ruined-Me-For-Anyone-Else

She suggested we 'crouch' buck nekkid on the bed or a dresser and leap out at him from the shadows.Now, my husband can't see all that well in the dark. I think if he comes into a darkened bedroom and finds 140 pounds of cellulite hurtling through space at him, he's going to run like the devil.

It's about time! It's supposed to be a ritual, not a marathon.

In life you'll meet a lot of jerks. If they hurt you, tell yourself that it's because they're stupid. That will help keep you from reacting to their cruelty. Because there is nothing worse than bitterness and vengeance... Always keep your dignity and be true to yourself.

Each day of the week, Kalist indulges himself in a different, secret ritual. On Mondays, he wears cologne. On Tuesdays, he eats meat for lunch. On Wednesdays, he places a bet after work. On Thursdays, he smokes one cigarette (but claims he’s not a smoker). On Fridays, he treats himself to his favourite pastime: horse practice – he grew up with horses and likes to try and emulate their distinctive whinnies, snorts, neighs, snuffles, sighs, grunts, fluttering nostrils, the occasional aggressive outburst and the especially beautiful nicker of a mare to her foal. And, on Saturdays, lest we forget, Maxwell D. Kalist drinks wine from a chalice.