Best 501 quotes in «hilarious quotes» category

The only good thing was that by midnight, even most of the bums had gone home to sleep it off. That was lucky for them, because Ray was the worst damn driver I’d ever seen. And that was after I jerked his head out of the duffel and parked it on the dashboard. “Gah! That makes it worse!” he told me, as I tried to get the eyes facing forward. “How can it possibly be worse?” “Because I got double vision now! Get it off! Get it off!” He batted at his own head and succeeded in sending it tumbling into Christine’s lap. She immediately went into hysterics and slapped it away. The head fell out of the car; Ray hit the brakes and we came to a screeching halt. “What are you doing?” I screeched, as he hopped out. “There are people firing at us!” “Tough!” came from somewhere under the car.

The only real reason that some relationships and marriages have not yet been ended is because in each case one of the partners has not yet found their ideal partner or someone they love or at least like.

The past, the present, and the future walked into a bar. It was tense.

The priest DID have it coming, though," Lelldorin declared hotly. "What priest?" "The priest of Chaldan at that little chapel who wouldn't marry us because Arianna couldn't give him a document proving she had her family's consent. He was very insulting." "Did you break anything?" "A few of his teeth is about all-- and I stopped hitting him as soon as he agreed to perform the ceremony.

(Therapist:) "It's interesting that you drew yourself with this little golden crown on your head. What does the crown mean to you?" "That's not a crown," she told him. "That's a nimbus of outrage.

There are few things more discomfiting than a spontaneous outburst of genuine decency from someone you’re determined to dislike for no good reason.

There is one hour in his life when we see a flash of utter physical action on Christ's part, an hour when this most curious of men must have experienced the sheer joyous exuberance of a young mammal in full flight: when he lets himself go and flings over the first money changer's table in the Temple at Jerusalem, coins flying, doves thrashing into the air, oxen bellowing, sheep yowling, the money changer going head-over-teakettle, all heads turning, what the...? You don't think Christ got a shot of utter childlike physical glee at that moment? Too late to stop now, his rage rushing to his head, his veiny carpenter's-son wiry arms and hard feet milling as he whizzes through the Temple overturning tables, smashing birdcages, probably popping a furious money-changer here and there with a quick left jab or a well-placed Divine Right Elbow to the money-lending teeth, whipping his scourge of cords against the billboard-size flank of an ox, men scrambling to get out of the way, to grab some of the flying coins, to get a punch in on this nutty rube causing all the ruckus... In all this holy rage and chaos, don't you think there was a little absolute boyish mindless physical jittery joy in the guy?

There would be fewer absent fathers, if straight men were turned on only by women with whom they would not mind having children.

There probably was a time when the idea of having a toilet inside a house was repulsive.

There once was a man from Des Moines Whose wife was always annoyed He stepped in the kitchen She started her bitchin' Now that fucking cunt is dead.

The woman at the next table is making eyes at you,” Lanie said, whispering conspiratorially. “Really? What does she make them out of? Cloth?

The shapes inched closer. I gaped at them, trying to discern their features. "I think I see dead people," I whispered. "Yep," Aidan said, smiling. "More vampire jokes. You're just fine, then. Once this is over, you and my brother will be BFFs." He wrapped his arms around me, pressing me against his broad chest. Against my better judgement, I leaned into him, strangely comforted.

The ship's surgeon was a spotty unshaven little man whose clothes, arrayed with smudges, drippings, and cigarette burns, were held about him by an extensive network of knotted string, The buttons down the front of those duck trousers had originally been made, with all of false economy's ingenious drear deception, of coated cardboard. After many launderings they persisted as a row of gray stumps posted along the gaping portals of his fly. Though a boutoniere sometimes appeared through some vacancy in his shirt-front, its petals, too, proved to be of paper, and he looked like the kind of man who scrapes foam from the top of a glass of beer with the spine of a dirty pocket comb, and cleans his nails at table with the tines of his salad fork, which things, indeed, he did. He diagnosed Camilla's difficulty as indigestion, and locked himself in his cabin. that was the morning.

The two-by-four by the door sometimes ya need it to get their attention - Grannie Gin

They can’t denied who I am.

This isn't the first time I've used this, and the test subject showed no signs of impaired cognitive ability." "Who was the test subject?" asked Aurora. "I test everything out on myself before taking it into the field." She stared at him. "You zapped your own brain?" "And it didn't do me any harm apart from the dizziness and the vomiting spells and the weirdly persistent ringing in my ears. Also the blackouts and the mood swings and the creeping paranoia. Apart from that, zero side effects, if you don't count the numb fingertips. Which I don't.

They're not going to arrest you,' Skulduggery said as they walked through the door. 'They might glare at you and say angry words, but they won't arrest you. Well, they might arrest you. There's a good chance they will. But the important thing is that I've done nothing wrong.' 'For once.

tiny doesn't just sing these words - he belts them. it's like a parade coing out of his mouth. i have no doubt the words travel over lake michigan to most of canada and on to the north pole. the farmers of saskatchewan are crying. santa is turning to mrs. claus and saying 'what the fuck is that? - will grayson

This was the sort of girl who should be attending college, not ones like that dreadful Minkoff girl, that brutal and slovenly girl who had almost been raped by one of the janitors just outside of his office. Dr. Talc shuddered at the very thought of Miss Minkoff. In class she had Insulted and challenged and vilified him at every turn, egging the Reilly monster to join in the attack. He would never forget those two; no one on the faculty ever would. They were like two Huns sweeping down on Rome. Dr. Talc idly wondered if they had married each other. Each certainly deserved the other.

To increase the chances of a writer trying to kill themselves, cut off their hands.

(…) Trying to think of how to take the least crowded ways to class, so the least amount of people will stare at the hole in my neck. Sometimes it feels like it has a beacon in it, flashing for the entire world to see, except it's not cool like the Bat signal.

Unless it is you, finding out who your lover’s dream lover is is a nightmare.

Two passing jetliners reported to controllers they’d seen a man with a gun seated on a deck chair at eleven thousand feet…

Valkyrie stood there and waited for her to start making sense. "There is a vegetable-plant hybrid we've been working on, modifying the genes and receptors, mutating the proteins and acids so that they are, in effect, neurotransmitters. Our work on the synapses alone has been quite illuminating." Valkyrie stood there and waited for her to start making sense.

Unrequited love is a billion times less intolerable than unrequited hate.

Wake up & Smell The Hot Chocolate ! ~ Eddie Havens

Wealth seldom fails to breed the fear of poverty.

We are all beautiful creation of God.

We are sometimes depressed by our failure to convince people who strongly believe that we are that we are definitely not depressed.

We are amazing individuals.

We are sometimes dragged into a pit of unhappiness by someone else’s opinion that we do not look happy.

Well," Cinder finally grumbled. "I guess that was pretty fast thinking." A relieved grin filled up Thorne's face. "We're having another moment, aren't we?" "If by a moment, you mean me not wanting to strangle you for the first time since we met, than I guess we are.

We found Trent and pulled him off the leggy girl. “Trent, it’s time to get home before your parents realize we snuck out.” I said. “What?” he asked confusedly. “Plus the bouncer found out we were sixteen and he does not look happy.” Logan added. The girl froze, “You’re sixteen? What the hell. You little perv, you’re going to pay for this.” Trent sputtered, “What? No.” Logan looked at her all doe eyed innocence and said “Sorry Ma’am, we have to get home now because it’s past our curfew.” Trent stood open mouthed in shock but his eyes were shooting murderous rays. So many death glares, so little time.

We would not be ashamed of doing some of the things we do in private, if the number of sane human beings who do them in public were large enough.

We're authors, too," Donegan said, "and we've been trying to get into the picture-book market. We have this idea for a Where's Wally type thing, except in ours, you'd have to find the one living person hiding in among all the dismembered corpses while the chainsaw-wielding killer hunts him down. You know, for kids." "We're going to call is Save the Survivor," Gracious said.

We seldom look up to the person; we usually look up to their persona.

We sometimes try to impress people we just met by not trying to impress them.

Well--to put it briefly--Arianna and I had become--well--friends." "I see." "Nothing improper, you understand," Lelldorin said quickly. "But our friendship was such that--well--we didn't want to be separated." The young Asturian's face appealed to his friend for understanding. "Actually," he went on, "it was a little more than 'didn't want to.' Arianna told me she'd die if I left her behind." "Possibly she was exaggerating," Garion suggested. "How could I risk it, though?" Lelldorin protested. "Women are much more delicate than we are-- besides, Arianna's a physician. She'd know if she'd die, wouldn't she?

We think we like or love some people until we see them regularly.

We watch television and we play music, but mostly we've found ways to amuse ourselves." "Really?" Valkyrie asked. "Like what?" Plight's smile faded. "Like human sacrifice." He grabbed one arm and Lenka grabbed the other and Valkyrie cried out. They both let go, laughing. "Naw," Plight said," we just play board games.

What are we going to do when we get into the temple, anyway? Are we going to fight our way through the Necromancers on our own?" "No, we're going to find a way to let our friends in, and we'll let them fight while we stand by and look smug." "I like that plan." "It has its moments.

What are these? They look like scars." Meryn glanced down and realized he was talking about her stretch marks. Had he never seen stretch marks before?” “Those are called stretch marks." "Stretch marks? How did you get them?"  "Human females get them when we grow. If we grow too fast our skin rips apart and heals. It's a very painful process." Meryn lied through her teeth. There was no way she was going to discuss stretch marks after the most mind blowing sex of her life. Nope. Wasn't going to happen. Aiden's expression became reverent. "Human females are amazing creatures, you endure so much pain yet are so fragile." He kissed each shiny line. I'm going to hell.

What are you doing?" "I'm, uh, acting normal." "No you're not. You're acting like someone pretending to be normal. Stop pretending and start acting, but don't act like you're not pretending, that'll make it worse.

What is it that Australians celebrate on 26 January? Significantly, many of them are not quite sure what event they are commemorating. Their state of mind fascinated Egon Kisch, an inquisitive Czech who was in Sydney at the end of January 1935. Kisch has a place in our history as the victim, or hero, of a ludicrous chapter in the history of our immigration laws. He had been invited to Melbourne for a Congress against War and Fascism, and was forbidden to land by order of the attorney-general, R. G. Menzies. He had jumped overboard, broken his leg, gone to hospital, failed a dictation test in Gaelic and been sentenced to imprisonment and deportation. When the High Court declared Gaelic not a language, Kisch was free to hobble on our soil...

What’s your rank of choice?” Juliet started, nearly spilling her cup of lemonade. “Pardon?” Drake gestured to all the other men in the room. “Every rank from a duke down to a second son who became a vicar is available for your choosing. Any rank strike your fancy?” “I believe you’re incorrect,” she said, looking over all the men in the room. “I see one second son-vicar, one baron―” she turned to him―“one viscount, two earls, and one duke. But alas, no marquis.” His brown eyes lit with mischief. “I’d say that I stand corrected, but I do not. There is a marquis on the premises. If you’d like to dance with him, I’ll see if a servant can fetch him from the nursery.

What's a Dullahan?' 'He's a headless horseman, in the service of the banshee.' 'Headless?' 'Yes.' 'Seriously?' 'Yes.' 'So he has no head?' 'That's usually what headless means.' 'No head at all?' 'You're really getting hung up on this headless thing, aren't you?' 'It's just kind of silly, even for us.' 'Yet you spend your days with a living skeleton.' 'But at least he has a head.' 'True.' 'He even has a spare.

What the—who the—what the fucking fuck?

What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, So stumblest on my counsel? *Who are you? Why do you hide in the darkness and listen to my private thoughts?*

Whenever He answers prayers, God usually prioritizes those by people who, instead of their mouths, have prayed with their hands and/or feet.

Where did you get your tat?” “Aaron’s shop. You want to get a tat?” he asked, grinning as if this was hilarious. “I have one,” I said, rolling the ball into the gutter. “It’s not finished though.” “How come?” “My brother interrupted the tattoo and I never had the money to get it done again.” “No, I meant how come you’re such a bad bowler? Is it genetic?” he asked. “Like do you come from a long line of people who can’t make a ball roll in a straight line?” “You’re hilarious.” “I try, Pixie Dust.