Best 501 quotes in «hilarious quotes» category

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

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.

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.

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 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?*

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’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 the—who the—what the fucking fuck?

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

Whenever they are condemning weaves or breast implants, some people speak so passionately that their false teeth almost fall out.

When things go well for days on end, it is an hilarious accident.

When she and Wren divided up their clothes, Wren had taken anything that said "party at a boy's place" or "leaving the house." Cath had taken everything that said "up all night writing" or "it's okay to spill tea on this."" (pg. 189)

When the officer approached the window, he said ‘Papers’ and before he could finish, I shouted, ‘Scissors! I win,’ and drove off.

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.

When you are suffering from sexual starvation, a spank or even a hug seems like a porn scene.

Where's your car? Miles asks, glancing at him as he slams his door shut and slings his backpack over his shoulder. "And whats up with your hand?" "I got rid of it," Damen says, gaze fixed on mine. Then glancing at Miles and seeing his expression he adds, "The car, not the hand." "Did you trade it in?" I ask, but only because Miles is listening. [...] He shakes his head and walks me to the gate, smiling as he says, "No, I just dropped off on the side of the road, key in the ignition, engine running." "Excuse me?!" Miles yelps. "You mean to tell me that you left your shiny, black, BMW M6 Coupe—by the side of the road?" Damen nods. But thats a hundred-thousand-dollar car!" Miles gasps as his face turns bright red. "A hundreds and ten." Damen laughs. "Don't forget, it was fully customized and loaded with options." Miles stares at him, eyes practically bugging out of his head, unable to comprehend how anyone could do such a thing—why anyone would do such a thing. "Um, okay, so let me get this straight—you just woke up and decided—Hey, what the hell? I think I'll just dump my ridiculously expensive luxury car by the side of the road—WHERE JUST ANYONE CAN TAKE IT?" Damen shrugs. "Pretty much." "Because in case you haven't noticed," Miles says, practically hyperventilating now. "Some of us are a little car deprived. Some of us were born with parents so cruel and unusual they're forced to rely on the kindness of friends for the rest of their lives!" "Sorry." Damen shrugs. "Guess I hadn't thought about that. Though if it makes you feel any better, it was all for a very good cause.

Who am I? What is my mission?

Which college?' 'Hmm?' 'Which college do you go to?' Fletcher nodded. 'Yes.' 'I'm sorry?' 'Oh,' Fletcher said, and laughed. Valkyrie's parents looked at Fletcher in near bewilderment. Fletcher looked back at them in total bewilderment. Valkyrie shook her head.

Who grins in official circumstances?

Why are you staring at my boobs? My face is up here,” Trudy exclaims. Jack, the hotel employees, and I jump back like we’ve been electrocuted while the seniors don’t skip a beat. No. She. Didn’t. These geriatric devils are so bad.

Who the fuck is Old Jolene?

With a nod, Thorne started down the street. 'This way.' Five steps later, he paused, pondered, turned around. 'No, no, this way.' 'We're dead.' 'No, I've got it now. It's this way.' 'Don't you have an address?' 'A captain always knows where his ship is. It's like a psychic bond.' 'If only we had a captain here.' He ignored her, marching down the street with spectacular confidence.

Would you be shedding tears for McNab’s dead body if he’d been screwing around on you?” Peabody pursed her lips. “Well, since I’d’ve been the one who killed him, I’d probably be shedding tears for me because you’d be arresting me. And that would really make me sad.

-You have what they call the complete package, Adders. -What do you know about my package? -No that package, you idiot! You are the complete package! I wasn't talking about what's in your trousers!

You know what? You know what? You know what?' I was waving my finger under her nose. 'You scratched the Son of God. That's your ass, that's what.

You'll be better able to climb and descend stairs like a healthy person as opposed to a broken runner who navigates steps like landmines.

You need to be greedy or ignorant to truly want to live forever.

You promise?" "I cross the place where my heart used to be and wish to be even more deader than I am now.

You own your own island? Doesn't every Greek tycoon?

You're not used to early mornings, are you?" He shook his head. "Early mornings were invented by the system to keep the people occupied. But not me. I'm on to them. They're not gonna catch me napping. Metaphorically, like. Obviously, they can catch me physically napping like, four or five times a day, but, metaphorically, I am so far beyond their reach.

You see that girl, she looks so happy right? But inside she's dying. She's hurt and tired. Tired of all the drama, tired of not being good enough, tired of life. But she doesn't want to look dramatic, weak or attention seeking so she keeps it all inside. Act's like everything's perfect but she cries at night, boy does she cry at night, so that everybody thinks she is the happiest person they know, that she has no problems and her life is perfect. Little do they know.

Who’s a** is this?” Mo asked... “Mine!” Mykel shouted. Mo stilled and then laughed. Mykel thought about what he said and then felt his face heat up from embarrassment. “I mean yours.” “God, I love you,” Mo said...

Why are babies allowed to cry when they wake up, but adults crying when they wake is frowned upon? Babies are permitted to act like assholes whenever they feel like it and no one blinks...

Working for Master Mischief? This would be an act of sheer rebellion. Her parents would be livid if they ever found out. And it would be hilarious.

You & I Both Know That You're NOT the New Orleans PD's Favorite Son! - Sam Deeds

You are more likely to find three TVs inside a randomly selected house than you are to find a single book that is or was not read to pass an exam, to please God, or to be a better cook.

You’d throw yourself in front of a bus for me.” She would and he knew it.He knew it and she knew that he felt that knowledge burrow deep and he liked it. Elle felt tears stinging the backs of her eyes, her body melted into his,her arms tightened around him and she whispered back, “Yes,Pren,though I hope I never get the chance.

You’re all right, Blue Eyes.” She lifted her head to look into them. “You’re all right, down the line. You ever want a free bang, you got one coming.” “It would, no doubt be a memorable bang. But my wife is fiercely jealous and territorial.” He grinned over at a very cold-eyed Eve. “Her? You? That’s a kick in the ass.” “Every damn day,” Eve muttered, and strode out. She kept striding, out of the club, back into the comparatively fresh air of the city street. And fisted her hands on her hips as she spun to him. “Did you have to do the ‘my wife’ crap?” His grin remained, and only widened. “I did, yes. I felt a desperate need for your protection. I believe that woman had designs on me.” “I’ll put a design on you that won’t come off in the shower.” “See, now I’m excited.” Reaching out, he toyed with the lapel of her coat."What have you got in mind ?

You should find something better to do with your time,” Mandy told him. “I spend my time shooting people, and then I take them to darkrooms and blow them up.” “…Come again?” Alecto questioned with a tone of alarm in his voice. “I take photographs and develop them myself, I’ve got my own darkroom… it was a joke,” Mandy laughed. “I love photography and I’m gonna be a photojournalist someday.” “Really?” Alecto asked. For the first time since she’d met him, he sounded slightly enthusiastic. “…I take photographs and I film my own home movies, I have a darkroom as well… but I can’t be a photojournalist like you… I can’t be anything… still, at least I can take photographs, it’s fun.

You Sure this is it?" I said. "It looks empty." "Empty? No way, there's loads of shit in there," worm replied

You took Theo's title and his home," West continued in appalled disbelief, "and now you want his wife." "His widow," Devon muttered. "Have you seduced her?" "Not yet." West clapped his hand to his forehead. "Christ. Don't you think she's suffered enough?

You've never heard of bagpipes?" Cody asked, sounding aghast. "They're as Scottish as kilts and red armpit hair!" "Um . . . yuck?" I said. "That's it." Cody said. "Steelheart has to fall so we can get back to educating children properly. This is an offense against the dignity of my motherland." "Great," Prof said. "I'm glad we now have proper motivation.

A bank is a place that will lend you money if you can prove that you don't need it.

A conclusion is the place you get to when you’re tired of thinking.

A conclusion is simply the place where you got tired of thinking.

A genius is one who can do anything except make a living.