Humor Quotes - Page 19

They hammered on the outer gate and called, but there was at first no answer; and then to their surprise someone blew a horn, and the lights in the windows went out. A voice shouted in the dark: 'Who's that? Be off! You can't come in. Can't you read the notice: No admittance between sundown and sunrise?' 'Of course we can't read the notice in the dark,' Sam shouted back. 'And if hobbits of the Shire are to be kept out in the wet on a night like this, I'll tear down your notice when I find it.

The rule is perfect: in all matters of opinion our adversaries are insane.

In her career, she'd closed multi-million dollar deals without a hint of nerves. Now she needed a jumbo-sized bottle of antacids just to get out of her car. Or a double shot of whiskey. God, she was losing it.

I prefer noodles when they're raw, they taste just as good, but reward you with a satisfying crunch...

The ideas of debtor and creditor as to what constitutes a good time never coincide.

He whipped out his sheet, then pulled it over himself and wrapped it tightly around his face like an old woman in a shawl. 'How do I look?''Like the ugliest shanky girl I’ve ever seen,' Minho responded. 'You better thank the gods above you were born a dude.' 'Thanks.

Caterpillars can fly, if they just lighten up.

My favorite quote in the world is this one.

I shot him a look. "That bouncer was really big."His lips quirked. "Oh, Kitten, see, I try not to say bad things.""What?"The grin spread. "I would say size doesn't matter but it does. I would know." he winked, and I let out a disgusted groan. He laughed.

All your Western theologies, the whole mythology of them, are based on the concept of God as a senile delinquent

I shouldn't believe anything I say, if I were you-and that includes what I just told you.

Shouting didn't help. Kathy keyed her landing skids down and strangled the thruster grips onto full. A flagman on the ground dove sideways. The fighter whizzed past the man's prostrate body, her skids unfolding only feet above his head. She nearly beheaded three others as she scrambled to decrease power to her belly thrusters and fight spinning into a sideways slide. Suddenly a group of people came into view at the edge of the tarmac. “Oh shit!” She killed her belly thrusters completely.The skids hit the cement like a Boeing 747 with no tires. She slammed back into the seat. Metal screeched against cement. Everything shook like a jackhammer. The big Shimeron slued sideways then slammed her into her harness as it lurched to a halt. Every part of her including her hands shook. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her tremors enough to power down.“You did it, O’Donnell,” she said as the gyros whined down in a groan of sympathy. She removed her helmet and pushed back her flight suit hood only to have a pile of sopping wet sparkling hair flop out over her face. She swiped it away and released the canopy. A blast of cool ocean air filled the cockpit. Carefully, she peered over the side of the cockpit.Bodies lay strewn about on the ground. A few prostrate forms moved. Kathy sank down into the seat with a grimace. Great, you just killed your welcoming committee, you twit.

Real life is sometimes boring, rarely conclusive and boy, does the dialogue need work.

He attacked everything in life with a mix of extraordinary genius and naive incompetence, and it was often difficult to tell which was which.

Civilization must be preserved,' says he.'Civilization's doing fine,' I said. 'We just don't happen to be where it is.

Unfortunately this Electric Monk had developed a fault, and had started to believe all kinds of things, more or less at random. It was even beginning to believe things they'd have difficulty believing in Salt Lake City.

I'll pluck out my eye with a pencil and eat it with a Spam and mustard sandwich IF ONLY you'll sit me at lunch today, MacKenzie!

In another Christmas story, Dale Pearson, evil developer, self-absorbed woman hater, and seemingly unredeemable curmudgeon, might be visited in the night by a series of ghosts who, by showing him bleak visions of Christmas future, past, and present, would bring about in him a change to generosity, kindness, and a general warmth toward his fellow man. But this is not that kind of Christmas story, so here, in not too many pages, someone is going to dispatch the miserable son of a bitch with a shovel. That's the spirit of Christmas yet to come in these parts. Ho, ho, ho.

Are you mad?" I ask."I was." He glances at the ceiling then back at me. "Or confused, anyway. The whole thing threw me through for a loop. I thought I'd finally met a guy at Underwood I could relate to, and it turns out he wasn't a guy at all."I swallow. "I can see how that would be weird." "In a way though, I was relieved.""Relieved?" I echo. "Why?"He looks around embarrased. "Let's just say you had me questioning my sexual orientation.

Some people have a way with words, and other people...oh, uh, not have way.

Teachers were not allowed to beat children as they did in the past, although, Mma Ramotswe reflected, there were some boys-and indeed some young men-who might have been greatly improved by moderate physical correction. The apprentices, for example: would it help if Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni resorted to physical chastisement-nothing severe, of course-but just an occasional kick in the seat of the pants while they were bending over to change a tyre or something like that? The thought made her smile. She would even offer to administer the kick herself, which she imagined might be oddly satisfying, as one of the apprentices, the one who still kept on about girls, had a largeish bottom which she thought would be quite comfortable to kick. How enjoyable it would be to creep up behind him and kick him when he was least expecting it, and then to say: Let that be a lesson! That was all one would have to say, but it would be a blow for women everywhere.

Well,” Lynx said once the man was dead. “That was…uneventful.”“You’re as fickle as an old woman,” Zeus told Lynx. “One minute too much carnage, the next not enough.

She fucking turns me inside out.""Women who matter have a way of doing that." Lucas scowled. "We sound like a couple of women, talking about feelings. I think Sascha's having a bad influence on me.""You started it.

I'm sure lovely girls such as yourselves need not worry about this"—Madame LaRoche begins, and I have a hunch we're about to be cautioned against something we enjoy

While you've been gadding about the countryside, we've held a meeting, and we've all of us decided that you must go.'In short, we've voted you out of the family,' Daffy said. 'It was unanimous.

Let me get you all some punch,” I said.“You're leaving us?” said Isabel, sounding panicky.“I'll be right back,” I promised. “If anyone comes near you, just scream and run.

I'm the most important person in the lives of almost everyone I know and a good number of the people I've never even met.

No one messes around with a nerd’s computer and escapes unscathed.

I sometimes get hassled for using the term "fat" but I also use the term "crazy" to describe myself and I'm fine with that because I'm taking those words back. I'm also taking "sexy" back because, frankly, Justin Timberlake has had it too long and he doesn't even need it.

The Church being what she is cannot have the instincts of a gentleman.

No hard feelings about that time in the Crucible when you mixed my salts and I was nearly blind for a day. No. No, really, drink up!

Yes," he said sincerely. "Such a one deserves peanut butter on the seat of his pants.

Paradigm shift: does that come before swing shift or after?

Hey!" I turned, crossing my arms and glaring. "I was talking to him!"Tybalt eyed me with amusement, which just made me glare harder. "No, you were inciting him to stab you with a toothpick. Again, the difference is small, but I think it matters.

I've seen more intelligence in the crotch lice of harem whores.

Will put his hand on Nico's shoulder. 'Nico, we need to have another talk about your people skills.''Hey, I'm just stating the obvious. If this is Apollo, and he dies, we're all in trouble.'Will turned to me. 'I apologize for my boyfriend.'Nico rolled his eyes. 'Could you not―''Would you prefer special guy?' Will asked. 'Or significant other?''Significant annoyance, in your case,' Nico grumbled.

The poacher's murderer was a man after Archer's own heart, for Archer also didn't like men to hurt Fire or make her acquaintance.

... it would matter ... to the tens of thousands of young Americans ... who would ... be invited to put on uniforms, fly to the other side of the world, spread their nether cheeks, and sit down on the big green dildo that was Vietnam.

Dear Producers, Something is radiating deep within me and it must be transmitted or I will implode and the world will suffer a great loss, unawares. Epic are the proportions of my soul, yet without a scope who cares am I? This is why I must but must be one of the inhabitants of MTV's "Real World." Only there, burning brightly into a million dazzled eyes, will my as yet uncontoured self assume the beauteous forms that are not just its own, but an entire market niche's, due. I am a Kirk Cameron-Kurt Cobain figure, roguishly quirky, dandified but down to earth, kooky but comprehensible; denizen of the growing penumbra between alternative and mainstream culture; angsty prophet of the already bygone apocalypse, yet upbeat, stylish and sexy!Oscar Wilde wrote, "Good artists exist in what they make, and consequently are perfectly uninteresting in what they are. A great poet, a really great poet, is the most unpoetical of all creatures. But inferior poets are absolutely fascinating... [they] live the poetry [they] cannot write." As with Dorian Gray, life is my art! Oh MTV, take me, make me, wake me from my formless slumbers and place me in the dreamy Real World of target marketing.

I gave three quiet cheers for Minnesota. In Seattle a dusty inch of anything white and chilly means the city lapses into full-on panic mode, as if each falling flake crashes to earth with its own individual baggie of used hypodermic needles. It’s ridiculous.

Eric moved the broom experimentally and made an attempt to sweep the glass into the pan while it lay in the middle of the floor. Of course, the pan slid away. Eric scowled.I'd finally found something Eric did poorly.

Tanith frowned. Did people still go on DATES any more? She was sure they did. They probably called it something different though. She tried to think of the last date she'd been on. The last PROPER date. Did fighting side by side with Saracen Rue count as a date? They ended up snuggling under the moonlight, drenched in gore and pieces of brain - so it had PROBABLY been a date. If it wasn't, it was certainly a fun time had by all. Well, not ALL. But she and Saracen had sure had a blast.

It isn't often that Aunt Dahlia lets her angry passions rise, but when she does, strong men climb trees and pull them up after them.

I’m afraid to see a psychiatrist about the voices in my head. She might know who they are.

The great lie is like a sword that has been thrust into the heart of humankind.

When men and women produce a baby together for the first time, it's an absolute festival of mutual incompetence.

Is this the baby?" I said.Ma turned on me again."What do you think it is?" she said. "A midget that can't talk?

Where would David Copperfield be if Dickens had gone to writing classes? Probably about seventy minor characters short, is where. (Did you know that Dickens is estimated to have invented thirteen thousand characters? Thirteen thousand! The population of a small town!)

Don't fuckin' sleep on yourself

When one day an expedition was sent to the spatial coordinates that Voojagig had claimed for the planet they discovered only a small asteroid inhabited by a solitary old man who claimed repeatedly that nothing was true, though he was later discovered to be lying.

...Her body twitched from his magic. "What is this feeling?" She panted as she asked the question. Her body felt pleasantly soft. His motions slowed and became languid."It's called an orgasm," he replied in that slow, silky way of his. She loved his voice when it got thick like honey. Most of the time he spoke so quickly that she lost track. She liked it when his tone got deep and husky. "You should have one every time a man touches you. If you don't, punch him in the face.

Man craves joy far more than anything else in life, but there is nothing as madly intoxicating as the feeling of joy that comes from the soul.

Objection!" Metz shouts.Grounds?" the judge asks.Well...he's my witness!

I was just teasing," I say. "I myself don't like to eat plain butter, but hey, it's a free world.

Once outside, the detectives advanced up an escalator and to a floor with two elevators. One was labeled for the staff, and the other for guests. In the corner was a plain grey door which led up a staircase.“Monsieur Leor…” Jean began. “Are you up for a challenge?”“You want to run up the staircase.” Leor concluded, plainly. “Like schoolboys?”“Ouais, monsieur,” Jean replied, with a silly grin. “You can consider it your preliminary training, if that helps your dignity.

Where is Polonius? HAMLET t In heaven. Send hither to see. If your messenger find him not there, seek him i' th' other place yourself. But if indeed you find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you go up the stairs into the lobby.

If I could make it better I would,” he says. In some ways it’s a stupid, obvious thing to say, but the way he said it, so honest and simple like it’s the truest thing there is, makes the tears prick in my eyes. (Before I Fall)

Just the way it never rains when you have an umbrella, you'll never run into people if you look fantastic. But go outside in pajamas, and you'll run into every ex you have.

What are you doing?” he gasped. He looked slightly ridiculous. It was not as if he was a defenseless damsel in distress. He could have stopped me, if he wanted to. But he didn’t want to. Besides, I’ve always considered this to be the most idiotic question in the world. I’m pulling off your pants to have a good look at your dick and your ass, is the obvious answer. Looking being only the first step, by the way.

The primary goal of a righteous parent who has a daughter is to minimize the number of boys and men for whom their daughter will have willingly opened her legs come her wedding day; the closer to zero, the more righteous they will seem.