Weird Quotes - Page 3

Quiet people always know more than they seem. Although very normal, their inner world is by default fronted mysterious and therefore assumed weird. Never underestimate the social awareness and sense of reality in a quiet person; they are some of the most observant, absorbent persons of all.

Here march the eaters of earth, the swallowers of rain.

The more passionate and argumentative I get the more followers and friends I make online.

Weird: of strange or extraordinary character

At this point I think we need to embrace the weird. High-five it. Give it our phone number.

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

There are people who are generic. They make generic responses and they expect generic answers. They live inside a box and they think people who don't fit into their box are weird. But I'll tell you what, generic people are the weird people. They are like genetically-manipulated plants growing inside a laboratory, like indistinguishable faces, like droids. Like ignorance.

Expired condoms are like nuclear waste: there's nothing sensible you can do with it.

We could go so far as to say that it is the human condition to be grotesque, since the human animal is the one that does not fit in, the freak of nature who has no place in the natural order and is capable of re-combining nature's products into hideous new forms.

Maybe I should stop while I'm aheadNay, I swim with sea-demons no sweet summer tuned radioover my sunless desertscapehow does it burn without the sun?

Gerard turned away and ignored the cruelty of the meerkats, tore it from his mind. Lucretia needed a heart.

All forms of madness, bizarre habits, awkwardness in society, general clumsiness, are justified in the person who creates good art.

Normal people live distracted, rarely fully present. Weird people silence the distractions and remain fully in the moment.

After this whole acting thing is over and done, you eventually have to be human. Some people are never human. It's very weird.

There's a weird logic that explains a common truth.

Normal people attempt countless goals with limited success. Weird people focus on just one God-given objective with tremendous results.

Don't worry if you've been labeled as weird. Who wants to be classed as normal in an insane world?

If it doesn't sweat, jiggle, or pant, it's not alive.

Facebook is that successful guy you’re supposed to want to date, but you can’t keep your mind off the beautiful freak in the corner. Twitter is my freak.

His body walks out onto the darkened stage , and a roar goes up from the crowd. He stands in front of the mic, and he can feel his face twist in a sneer-the Elvis sneer from his dreams-though he never told it to move. He is powerless now, a spectator at his own moment of glory.

The irony of sensory deprivation tanks is that in order to think outside the box, you must first go inside one.

But please remember: this is only a work of fiction. The truth, as always, will be far stranger.

Nobody is wired wrong because there’s no wrong and right in the way we are.

Seeing his daughter slowly die, coupled with his infinite sadness and misery, the clockmaker becomes a recluse to the tower of the castle and begins to build something behind closed doors, not even his daughter knows what he’s up to. For five years, she only sees him briefly at meal-times before locking himself up in the tower once again...""...Did he have a bathroom in the tower?""Yes, Jack. A big one! En-suite! Power-shower and spa! Where was I!?

Isn't it weird? The way you remember things when it's gone.

Um, thanks,” Jackson told her. “And your name is…?”“I’m Margaret, Margaret Van Der Graaf,” she answered with another eerie smile. Her teeth were so white that they looked bleached.“Van Der Graaf?” Jackson repeated, trying to stifle his laughter. He didn’t want to be rude to the only person in sight, to this kind-hearted stranger who was offering to help him, but… Van Der Graaf?“What are you laughing at?” Margaret asked with curiosity, flashing him a calculating gaze. “I like my name. If you’re going to be a jerk, then I won’t help you. You can stay out here on the street through the night for all I care.”“…Harsh,” said Jackson, giving her a quizzical glance back. There was something ‘off’ about her, something that Jackson couldn’t quite place, something that bordered on horrible loneliness and longing. “Who else lives here, Margaret Van Der Graaf?” He couldn’t resist saying her name aloud. Despite its hilarity, it had a nice ring to it. “Who else lives here?” he urged.“Me, myself and I,” said Margaret simply, snickering when she saw his horrified and annoyed expression