Best 3518 quotes in «humour quotes» category

I turn back to see that he is holding out the book, offering it to me. My eyes make contact with the book at first and then travel up his very muscular, very athletic arm, coming to rest on the utterly beautiful tattoo that is wrapped around it. I can't see the head of the angel, but the detail of its wings as they sheathe his bicep and the sword it holds within its grasp are simply stunning.

It was a basic tenet of faith with men of Ranulf’s class that a knight, trained in the ways of war since boyhood, could easily vanquish lesser foes, as much a belief in the superiority of blood and breeding as in the benefits of battle lore and killing competence. Ranulf had accepted this comforting conviction, too, but no one seemed to have told his assailants that they were inferior adversaries.

It was as if his face had washed up on his head, like a tide, and left its mark, and then some artistic boy had come along to the same beach with a little paint.

It was as if she was a wannabe Persian cat who had just tasted sour milk.

It was a good picture. You could tell by the amount of time I spent staring at it.

It was a good thing that when it came to married men, she was a girl with a firm moral compass, or else she would have been tempted to make him break his marital promises.

It was an interesting night. I’d never been to a non-Jewish wedding, and Phelan assured me that this one was not the norm. The bride and groom got pissed as newts—he ended up passed out, sprawled face down in his own vomit, while she did the cancan on the bridal table, flashing something old, which apparently was nothing new.

It was difficult to see the exact nature of his expression as, in addition to the ubiquitous mustache, the clockmaker also wore a golden-brown beard of such epic proportions as might dwarf a mulberry bush. It was as though his mustache had become overly enthusiastic and, seized with the spirit of adventure, set out to conquer the southern reaches of his face in a take-no-prisoners kind of way.

It was during Latin that the Austro-Hungarians arrived with their dogs and zombies to kill everyone at the Eden College for Young Ladies.

It was certainly true that I had “no sense of humour” in that I found nothing funny. I didn’t know, and perhaps would never know, the feeling of compulsion to exhale and convulse in the very specific way that humans evolved to do. Nor did I know the specific emotion of relief that is bound to it. But it would be wrong, I think, to say that I was incapable of using humour as a tool. As I understood it, humour was a social reflex. The ancestors of humans had been ape-animals living in small groups in Africa. Groups that worked together were more likely to survive and have offspring, so certain reflexes and perceptions naturally emerged to signal between members of the group. Yawning evolved to signal wake-rest cycles. Absence of facial hair and the dilation of blood vessels in the face evolved to signal embarrassment, anger, shame and fear. And laughter evolved to signal an absence of danger. If a human is out with a friend and they are approached by a dangerous-looking stranger, having that stranger revealed as benign might trigger laughter. I saw humour as the same reflex turned inward, serving to undo the effects of stress on the body by activating the parasympathetic nervous system. Interestingly, it also seemed to me that humour had extended, like many things, beyond its initial evolutionary context. It must have been very quickly adopted by human ancestor social systems. If a large human picks on a small human there’s a kind of tension that emerges where the tribe wonders if a broader violence will emerge. If a bystander watches and laughs they are non-verbally signaling to the bully that there’s no need for concern, much like what had occurred minutes before with my comments about Myrodyn, albeit in a somewhat different context. But humour didn’t stop there. Just as a human might feel amusement at things which seem bad but then actually aren’t, they might feel amusement at something which merely has the possibility of being bad, but doesn’t necessarily go through the intermediate step of being consciously evaluated as such: a sudden realization. Sudden realizations that don’t incur any regret were, in my opinion, the most alien form of humour, even if I could understand how they linked back to the evolutionary mechanism. A part of me suspected that this kind of surprise-based or absurdity-based humour had been refined by sexual selection as a signal of intelligence. If your prospective mate is able to offer you regular benign surprises it would (if you were human) not only feel good, but show that they were at least in some sense smarter or wittier than you, making them a good choice for a mate. The role of surprise and non-verbal signalling explained, by my thinking, why explaining humour was so hard for humans. If one explained a joke it usually ceased to be a surprise, and in situations where the laughter served as an all-clear-no-danger signal, explaining that verbally would crush the impulse to do it non-verbally.

It was a sweet smile, but it hid menace, like the kind dentists gave.

It was a trap. It was so obviously a trap. Darquesse smiled.

It was entirely possible I would sexually assault him if I got too close.

It was like being leaned on by a very heavy, warm brick. A sexy brick.

It was my turn to groan. Dress shopping with Kade's mother. Kill me now. The alternative- arriving home without a gown- was equally unappealing. "Okay, but I'm taking my switchblade along." "To defend yourself against my mother?" He asked with an incredulous tone. "No. To slit my throat if the day goes badly." He laughed. "Make sure you don't bleed in front of her. She faints at the sight of blood." I'm so glad you have your priorities straight," I said. My voice dripped with sarcasm.

It was nothing. We played tic-tac-toe for a while. You know we do that sometimes." "Oh, I know," Teagan says. "Okay, how did you make that sound like we were rolling around ripping off each other's clothes?

It was not long after that Ganesh saw a big new notice in the shop, painted on cardboard. ‘Is Leela self who write that,’ Ramlogan said. ‘I didn’t ask she to write it, mind you. She just sit down quiet quiet one morning after tea and write it off.’ It read: NOTICE NOTICE, IS. HEREBY; PROVIDED: THAT, SEATS! ARE, PROVIDED. FOR; FEMALE: SHOP, ASSISTANTS! Ganesh said, ‘Leela know a lot of punctuation marks.’ That is it, sahib. All day the girl just sitting down and talking about these puncturation marks. She is like that, sahib.

It was supposed to say "Great Artist" on my tombstone, but if I died right now it would say "such a good teacher/daughter/friend" instead; and what I really want to shout, and want in big letters on that grave, too, is FUCK YOU ALL.

It was the list of activities thing. Like the menu with price, only I'm not the restaurant; I'm the meal.

It were better that we were not at all, than that we should live still in wickedness, and to suffer, and not to know wherefore.

It was while he was on the tower that Robbie came to the rampart beneath. 'I want you to look at this,' Robbie called up to him, and flourished a newly painted shield. 'You like it?' Thomas peered down and, in the moonlight, saw something red. 'What is it?' he asked. 'A blood smear?' 'You blind English bastard,' Robbie said, 'it's the red heart of Douglas!' 'Ah. From up here it looks like something died on the shield.

It will all become clear to you when you grow up,’ he said, 'It’s an amusing idea, of course, a nice play on words. A female wizard! You might as well invent a male witch!’ 'Warlocks,’ said Esk. 'Pardon me?’ 'My granny says men can’t be witches,’ said Esk. 'She says if men tried to be witches they’d be wizards.’ 'She sounds a very wise woman,’ said Treatle. 'She says women should stick to what they’re good at,’ Esk went on. 'Very sensible of her.’ 'She says if women were as good as men they’d be a lot better.

it will be generally found that the popular joke is not true to the letter, but is true to the spirit. The joke is generally in the oddest way the truth and yet not the fact.

Typical. I had no contacts in, no make-up on, my hair was a frizzy state, my bum was on show for the whole world to see and, for the piéce de resistance, I also happened to be hanging upside-down from a tree.

Ivan took his tea gratefully but Philippe watched dispassionately as he took a long sip from it, as though he did not think that now was the moment for drinking tea.

I've always been a monster,' Scapegrace told her, 'but now, finally, my physical for reflects my inner darkness.' 'You smell terrible.' 'That's the smell of evil.' 'It's like rancid meat and bad eggs.' 'Evil," Scapegrace insisted.

Ivanov: Gentlemen, you've again set up a drinking shop in my study... I have asked each and every one of you a thousand times not to do that... Look now, you've spilt vodka on a paper... and there are crumbs... and gherkins... It's disgusting!

I've always liked Belgian waffles, but I must say, I didn't think I would one day be having Belgian waffles in Belgium! I just sort of POOF found myself there and there I was with a gigantic Belgian waffle in my hands, standing on a sidewalk in Belgium!

I've been thinking of installing a train in my house. It could bring me shrimp crackers from the kitchen.

I’ve always felt that love is like Belgian chocolate, you know, the ones with brandy filling. You always say you’re going to take one more bite, one more chocolate, and then, the whole box is gone. Perhaps the morning after, you might even get indigestion or a headache, and still, that evening, you might stop by the supermarket and buy another box because you simply can’t get enough.

... I've a thirst on me I wouldn't sell for half a crown. - Give it a name, citizen, says Joe. - Wine of the country, says he. - What's yours? says Joe. - Ditto MacAnaspey, says I. - Three pints, Terry, says Joe. And how's the old heart, citizen? says he.

I've done this sort of thing before. Not prophecies so much, but you'd be surprised how many people want to realign their ancestral lines to seem nobler, or rewrite their family history to remove more morally questionable episodes." He paused to recall a recent rewrite. "One lord wanted the murderers removed from his family line. His family was so corrupt, he ended up with three virgin births, two generations removed entirely and a lady who gave birth at the age of two. Still, no one questions it as there is evidence in the archives." Bubo smugly tapped a book. "There is one thing though, faking a prophecy in the past is easy, you already know the result. How will you make this come true in the future?" "I have someone in mind for it, but I'm not sure he'll go for it. But then prophecy is all optional anyway." Corvid looked up as if a thought had occurred to him. "I'd best go check on my man, I've not met him yet.

I’ve had affairs before but never like this - I need a reason to leave my wife,” Shimansky said, desperately appealing to me. “Won't you wife be annoyed?" I asked. “Probably. No doubt. She usually is…” he said. “That's very complicated. Even worse, what if your wife forgives you…? What then? You going to stay with her and keep doing the other one…?” From: "The Sundial Salesman.

I’ve just found out I’m allergic to nut-cases

I've never felt erotica was a 'niche market'. 50 years ago, Earth's population was 3 billion. Now it's 7 billion. That tells me a lot of people are interested in sex...

I've never met a lasagna I didn't like

I’ve spoken to Sid,” she admits. “He says he’s never seen Charlie so bad. He won’t eat, he’s lost weight and he looks terrible. Sid says it’s the first time he’s ever been so bored by him that he’s considered smothering him.

I've never seen anyone get so excited by breakfast before." "Are you serious? It's the most important meal of the day. Sometimes, at bedtime, I plan what I'm going to make for breakfast and then get so excited I can't sleep.

I've never written a quote I feel would be suitable for my gravestone. Wouldn't it be ironic if it were this one? Oh, and could you pull a few weeds while you're here?

I violently dislike you,' she said, and then she was gone, slamming the door and leaving a sort of shocked silence behind.

Ivy’s taken me to her parent’s house... I was originally lured into her car with the promise of a burrito. Ivy did not mention going to her parent’s house at all. She had only said, “Hop in Jane, we’re getting burritos.” Blinded by my affection for burritos, I jumped into the car like an unwitting pig on its way to a slaughterhouse.

Ivy looked up, clearly embarrassed. "I'm sorry about your men at the car. I didn't recognize them. They tried to stop me from coming in." My eyebrows rose, and Rynn Cormel's laughter shocked both Ivy and me. "If you bested them, they deserved it and needed the reminder. Thank you for correcting their poor interpretation of your skills." Ivy licked her lips. It was a nervous habit I didn't see often, and my tension rose. "Um," she hedged, trying to tuck her short hair behind an ear. "I think I ought to call an ambulance. I broke a few things.

I walk. I talk. I shop. I sneeze. I'm gonna be a fireman when the floods roll back. There's trees in the desert since you moved out, and I don't sleep on a bed of bones.

I want all transportation out of the city shut down. No boats leave, no planes take off and shoot a bus driver or two to show that we’re serious.

I wanted to give you advice. Adults are always doing that; it's one of their occupational hazards.

I want a new liver to replace my heart." "Um, why?" "Because then I could drink more and care less.

I wanted to remind you that you do not allow me to deliver boats, as I have been known to crash them.

I want you to move in with me, man." "Nah. I appreciate it, but I need to get a place of my own. I'm a grownup.

I want to reply with a long message, but if it's too long, that might be kind of revolting. But if it's too short, then I might come off as cold instead. Feeling apprehensive of what to do, I decided to reply back with a similar word count instead. This was what they called "mirroring" in psychology. By emulating the actions of the other party, your affection levels would increase!

-I was a doctor, remember? -For plants. I was a nurse. For people.