Weird Quotes

If you think of evil things, you are likely to do evil things and that will never pay you a pesewa. Think of good things and do good always!

The funny thing about the heart is a soft heart is a strong heart, and a hard heart is a weak heart.

Do you know what happens when you play a country song backwards? You get your wife back, your dog back and your job back.

The most interesting people are the unusual. No one writes about or discusses the average, the ordinary, or the common; they write about and discuss the weird, the mad and the different, so if you are one, even though the opinions of others are of no importance, you are, in their eyes, significant enough to notice and remember.

We have truth in order not to die of art.

Death is beautiful, part of life... No, it is sad. It’s sad when anyone dies. Even though every single human dies. So it’s really not that sad.

I once took a poo in the woods while hunched over like an animal. It was AWESOME.

Evil should not be, Detective Vera. Truly never can be. But in defining it as such, an inherent human bond with negativity confirms its very existence. Its mere acknowledgement cancels its credibility. Evil is nothing—the lack of anything of substance— made concrete as a balance to everything else. Evil is not, yet it is a part ofeach human, because humans welcome its participation in their lives. They speak of it in anger or disgust, fear or even wonder— the most appropriate response— giving it a stronger foundation with every passing thought it distorts. Though within their pliable minds, they welcome it with the glee of the ignorant, nurturing the unthinkable, thinking the unimaginable, imagining the most horrid, abysmal designs, embellishing them with an insidious veracity until evil is as substantial a reality as their next breath. I strive for something else, beyond evil’s claustrophobic clutches. I strive to transcend evil by becoming pure nothing. I strive as my followers strived.” He paused, his ideology a cancer, spreading… “I am, yet I strive to not be. Do you understand, comrade?” His tone suggested fellowship, disciples of the same obscene religion. ...

Today we're younger than we're ever gonna be

The hardest part of being a Canadian kid is having to color in Nunavut with a crayon in school, hell on earth.

I don't remember ever signing up for weird. It just sort of happened.

The problem is normal was'nt in my DNA. I was destined to be forever freakish.

The Special Operations Network was instigated to handle policing duties considered either too unusual or too specialized to be tackled by the regular force. There were thirty departments in all, starting at the more mundane Neighborly Disputes (SO-30) and going onto Literary Detectives (SO-27) and Art Crime (SO-24). Anything below SO-20 was restricted information, although it was common knowledge that the ChronoGuard was SO-12 and Antiterrorism SO-9. It is rumored that SO-1 was the department that polices the SpecOps themselves. Quite what the others do is anyone's guess. What is known is that the individual operatives themselves are mostly ex-military or ex-police and slightly unbalanced. 'If you want to be a SpecOp,' the saying goes, 'act kinda weird...

You guys are weird," Tori said.Simon sat on the crate beside me. "That's right. We are totally weird and completely uncool. Your popularity is plummeting just by being near us.

One day I'm a normal person with a normal life,” he said. “The next I'm standing on a street corner in Madrid with a secret phone and a hole in my arm and I'm bleeding all over, hoping I don't get arrested. It was completely crazy. But it seemed like the only way at the time.

Be yourself because an original is worth more than just a copy.

It was at the outskirts of the world that the Old Things accumulated, like driftwood round the edges of the sea. ("The Troll")

Hey, that’s why they in­vented the In­ter­net, her­manita. To talk about weird shit and down­load porn.

I write weird stories. I don't know why I like weirdness so much. Myself, I'm a very realistic person. I don't trust anything New Age -- or reincarnation, dreams, Tarot, horoscopes. I don't trust anything like that at all. I wake up at 6 in the morning and go to bed at 10, jogging every day and swimming, eating healthy food. I'm very realistic. But when I write, I write weird. That's very strange. When I'm getting more and more serious, I'm getting more and more weird. When I want to write about the reality of society and the world, it gets weird. Many people ask me why, and I can't answer that. But I recognized when I was interviewing those 63 ordinary people -- they were very straightforward, very simple, very ordinary, but their stories were sometimes very weird. That was interesting.

The worst thing that could ever happen to Noah has happened. He's become normal.

Repression. Her therapist, Dr. Solomon, loved the word. He'd say it slowly, letting it roll off his tongue. Sometimes he'd add a chin stroke for good measure. He always looked pleased when he did this, like he'd discovered the Caramilk secret or something.

If you can be heartless as the first man who visited the space, then there will be nothing impossibe for you to achieve.

Isn’t it so weird how the number of dead people is increasing even though the earth stays the same size, so that one day there isn’t going to be room to bury anyone anymore? For my ninth birthday last year, Grandma gave me a subscription to National Geographic, which she calls “the National Geographic.” She also gave me a white blazer, because I only wear white clothes, and it’s too big to wear so it will last me a long time. She also gave me Grandpa’s camera, which I loved for two reasons. I asked why he didn’t take it with him when he left her. She said, “Maybe he wanted you to have it.” I said, “But I was negative-thirty years old.” She said, “Still.” Anyway, the fascinating thing was that I read in National Geographic that there are more people alive now than have died in all of human history. In other words, if everyone wanted to play Hamlet at once, they couldn’t, because there aren’t enough skulls!

Let God create in you His masterpiece. He will make you truly different and joyfully weird.

If you put any effort into anything you do and have a strong sense of self to the point where you don’t even question your choices before you walk out of the house— you’re a fucking weirdo.

Don't be afraid to be weird for being wise.

Ladies and Gentlemen, take my advice, pull down your pants and slide on the ice.

Stuff that would be weird in the bright light of day just wasn't so much once you passed a certain hour.

A certain atmosphere of breathless and unexplainable dread of outer, unknown forces must be present; and there must be a hint, expressed with a seriousness and portentousness becoming its subject, of that most terrible conception of the human brain - a malign and particular suspension or defeat of those laws of Nature which are our only safeguard against the assaults of chaos and the daemons of unplumbed space .... Therefore we must judge a weird tale not by the author's intent, or by the mere mechanics of the plot; but by the emotional level which it attains at its least mundane point... The one test of the really weird is simply this - whether or not there be excited in the reader a profound sense of dread, and of contact with unknown spheres and powers; a subtle attitude of awed listening, as if for the beating of black wings or the scratching of outside shapes and entities on the known universe's utmost rim.

I'm quite aware of my differences. I wouldn't classify them as weird

We're all weird.

I remember seeing this video for the first time in college - miserable, half-drunk on Keystone Light, a Camel Light smoldering in my mouth, about to desperately tap-dance my way through another social interaction - and saying out loud: "I fucking *get* you, Bee Girl.

Whether you studied sexology or not, nobody will teach you how to screw, nobody will point to your vagina and say, hey that's where you pee and bonk! And nobody will say, hey, your penis can ejaculate when you stroke or slide it into a woman's punani!

Weird people love well.

It's weird when you think that you are weird and it's weird when you don't know that you are weird.

Caught in a terrible cycle, I was thinking about what I thought about my own thoughts, so I went to the bar where I got myself a glass of water.

She had a voice so husky it could have pulled a dogsled, and the gun she was holding gave me a bad case of barrel envy.

Creativity is just about connecting things. A whole lot of nonsense put together, and diluted with a creative passion can eventually make sense. Keep thinking. Exploring. Keep trying out new ways and methods of doing things and just when you least expect, you may stumble on that next great world-changing idea that will make all the difference.

A demonic reaper asked to be my valentine and then killed his crazy ex-girlfriend to save my life. Tomorrow I was starting up antipsychotic meds.

Weird makes you truly sexy in a way the world can never know.

Nothing Is Strange

Be yourself because an original is always worth more than a copy.

He rolled his eyes and took my hand. His hand was hard and calloused, tough with muscle and old scars.The night settled around us like a blanket. I could hear the water lapping against the dock. We were totally alone.“You’re . . . ,” he began, and I waited, heart throbbing in my throat. “Such a pain,” he concluded.“What?” I asked, just as his head swooped in and his mouth touched mine. I tried to speak, but one ofFang’s hands held the back of my head, and he kept his lips pressed against me, kissing me softly but with a Fanglike determination.Oh, jeez, I thought distractedly. Jeez, this is Fang, and me, and . . . Fang tilted his head to kiss me more deeply, and I felt totally lightheaded. Then I remembered to breathe through my nose, and the fog cleared a tiny bit. Somehow we were pressed together, Fang’s arms around me now, sliding under mywings, his hands flat against my back.It was incredible. I loved it. I loved him.It was a total disaster.Gasping, I pulled back. “I, uh—,” I began oh so coherently, and then I jumped up, almost knocking himover, and raced down the dock. I took off, flying fast, like a rocket.

Weirdism is definitely the cornerstone of many an artist's career.

If what you create seems to turn out much stranger than who you are as a person, it's probably because your heart is talking.

I think everybody's weird. We should all celebrate our individuality and not be embarrassed or ashamed of it.

What I'm trying to say, Brooke Overland, is that I want to be your nanny."That's seriously the most romantic thing I've ever heard in my life.

And what if the other kids laugh at me?” Kerry complained to her parents as she nibbled on a piece of toast that morning. “I have a Cape Breton accent! They’ll know I’m from Canada and they’ll start asking me if I lived in an igloo or ate maple syrup, bacon and seal meat every day!”“You’re really overreacting,” Susan chuckled, sipping on a glass of orange juice. “Canada is a lot like the States and the only thing separating both countries is an imaginary boarder! If anyone laughs at you, tell them it doesn’t snow year-round, you got free health care while you were there and that you never rode a polar bear to school. Besides, do you know how many popular movies and TV shows from the States were filmed in Canada?”“It’s not just the Canada stuff mom,” Kerry sighed worriedly. “I’m from Dym, it’s an industrial dump!”“Yeah, and have you looked at Pittsburgh lately?” Susan asked. “Full of coal mines and steel mills, just like Sydney was when we lived there! I actually rather came to like the pollution, I don’t think I’d ever want to leave it.

Finally, Charlie gave up the hunt and placed (the puppy) back on the floor, dispatching fleas was not his idea of a romantic evening, unless you happened to be a twisted exterminator, he thought.

Weird how I can feel so frail and tiny sometimes, and other times so brave and bold and reckless and free, and . . . Does everybody feel the same? When people get grown-up, do they always feel grown-up and sensible and sorted out and . . . And do I want to feel grown-up? Do I want to stop feeling . . . paradoxical, nonsensical? Do I want to stop being crackers? Do I want to be destrangified? O yes, sometimes I want nothing more - but it only lasts a moment, then O I want to be the strangest and crakerest of everybody.

I all of a sudden got to feeling like talking to people. Whenever I look at the ocean, I always want to talk to people, but when I’m talking to people, I always want to look at the ocean. I’m weird like that.

It was a little weird that they were friends. But then, maybe freaks just tended to find each other.

When you cross over into the weird stuff, there's no going back. Hector has a theory on it. Calls it the law of 'Anomalous Phenomena Attraction.' He explained it to me once. Didn't really pay attention, but it boils down to 'weird shit pulls in more weird shit.

Those times when someone you thought was your friend talks about you behind your back really hurt. Even if you act like you don't care, deep inside, you care.

Hey, Ms. P," Tad called, "what's going on?"She let out a slow breath before she answered. "You won't believe this... Brian Murrey tried to eat Scott Morgan."Nick's eyes widened at the unexpected explanation. Had he heard that right?

I could lose my mind, your love drives me crazy, and I ignore the reason why I'm crying at everytime I remember it's not reciprocal and you're saying that you're sorry because you don't show everything.

I stuck my finger in his belly buttonand squiggled it around.“Belly button rape!

For as long I can remember I have wanted to die. So that started around age 6. I think. My earliest clear memories start at age 140.

I'm too wacky for most weirdos. Who am I to judge?

I'd rather be a little weird than all boring.