Best 3518 quotes in «humour quotes» category

After a lifetime of soft, easy living in the West, one's buttocks take an awful hammering out here. Backpacking around India is just one long round of sitting on bone-hard, chafing, bruising and generally uncomfortable seats-whether in buses our trains, or restaurants or cinemas. There is no such thing as a padded seat in the whole country.

After all, I was once like you are, but being the right sort I got where I am.

After all, there was something rather pleasant in knowing that you were misunderstood. It made you feel different from everyone else.

After a moment or two a man in brown crimplene looked in at us, did not at all like the look of us and asked us if we were transit passengers. We said we were. He shook his head with infinite weariness and told us that if we were transit passengers then we were supposed to be in the other of the two rooms. We were obviously very crazy and stupid not to have realized this. He stayed there slumped against the door jamb, raising his eyebrows pointedly at us until we eventually gathered our gear together and dragged it off down the corridor to the other room. He watched us go past him shaking his head in wonder and sorrow at the stupid futility of the human condition in general and ours in particular, and then closed the door behind us. The second room was identical to the first. Identical in all respects other than one, which was that it had a hatchway let into one wall. A large vacant-looking girl was leaning through it with her elbows on the counter and her fists jammed up into her cheekbones. She was watching some flies crawling up the wall, not with any great interest because they were not doing anything unexpected, but at least they were doing something. Behind her was a table stacked with biscuits, chocolate bars, cola, and a pot of coffee, and we headed straight towards this like a pack of stoats. Just before we reached it, however, we were suddenly headed off by a man in blue crimplene, who asked us what we thought we were doing in there. We explained that we were transit passengers on our way to Zaire, and he looked at us as if we had completely taken leave of our senses. 'Transit passengers? he said. 'It is not allowed for transit passengers to be in here.' He waved us magnificently away from the snack counter, made us pick up all our gear again, and herded us back through the door and away into the first room where, a minute later, the man in the brown crimplene found us again. He looked at us. Slow incomprehension engulfed him, followed by sadness, anger, deep frustration and a sense that the world had been created specifically to cause him vexation. He leaned back against the wall, frowned, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. 'You are in the wrong room,' he said simply. `You are transit passengers. Please go to the other room.' There is a wonderful calm that comes over you in such situations, particularly when there is a refreshment kiosk involved. We nodded, picked up our gear in a Zen-like manner and made our way back down the corridor to the second room. Here the man in blue crimplene accosted us once more but we patiently explained to him that he could fuck off.

After my parents were dead, I found in a box and in two chests of drawers nothing but hundreds of bright red Alpine caps, I said, nothing but bright red Alpine stockings. Every one of them knitted by my mother. My parents could have gone into the High Alps with these bright red caps and bright red stockings for thousands of years. I burnt every one of those bright red caps and bright red stockings, I said. I put on one of my mother's hundreds of bright red Alpine caps and in this costume burnt all the others, laughing, laughing, continuously laughing, I said. (Goethe Dies, p.65)

After seven days of fasten so it was, that the thoughts of my heart were very grievous unto me- and my soul recovered the spirit of understanding.

After praying for those who have no food, pray for those who have food but have no appetite. ~Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu

After Puckoon I swore I'd never write another book. This is it

A game?’ Rob spluttered. ‘A bloody game?’ He turned to face his father. ‘This is your bloody fault! I’m living your bloody karma!

A funny yet interesting read, Will Self knowa his stuff and must do a lot of deep research.

Again he shook his head. The world's gone mad, he thought. The dead walk about and I think nothing of it. The return of corpses has become trivial in import. How quickly one accepts the incredible if only one sees it enough!

Aglaya just rolled her eyes. "You're like a ten year-old." "Ten-and-a-half," Kev defended. "But I read at a fourteen year-old level.

Age is only a number. Keep an active life.

Age may catch up with you, just never let it over take you.

A Goddess Adventure represents a combination of heart, head, and soul work

A golden dragon. Splendid. My life expectancy has just become shorter than a gnome’s todger.

A good pig is a dead pig

A good speech is like a miniskirt--long enough to over all the vital parts, short enough to entice and captivate listeners.

A good friend will come and bail you out of jail, but a best friend will be sitting next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'!

A great journey, full of laughter, a few tears and lots of heart. It’s romantic and adventurous, amusing and understanding, a story to enjoy – Claire Ashton, Book Blogger.co

A great family consists of a father who is a hard nut to crack, a mother who is a hard nut to chew and children who are hard nuts to swallow. ~Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu

Ah don’t worry about Jonah. Something must have crawled up his ass.” Billy pauses. “Something big.” “I hope he made sure to get its weight for takeoff,” I mutter, reaching for my running shoes. Billy’s barking laughter carries through the cool breeze.

A half-blood of the eldest dogs...

Ah don't hate the English. They're just wankers. We are colonised by wankers. We can't even pick a decent, vibrant, healthy culture to be colonised by. No. We're ruled by effete arseholes. What does that make us?

A halo is a cock ring for the soul.

Ah, but surely you must now be saying, "waitaminute, tuna fish would go bad if you kept it in your pocket for weeks and weeks without refrigerating it." To that I simply say: You obviously haven't read Professor P.S. Schackman's informative book How to Keep Tuna Fish in Your Pocket for Weeks and Weeks Without it Going Bad. I suggest you read it before complaining about the tuna situation again.

A guy rubbed against me,” I say. “But I think he was just trying to get by. He rubbed me, then said sorry. It was the ‘sorry’ that made me uncomfortable. The rub was kind of interesting, but when he apologized I felt like a creep because I actually liked it.

Ah...Dectective, this is a very private and personal moment for them both. I'm sure you can understand their need for-" A man stumbled out clutching a sheet round his waist and Valkyrie's eyes widened. "Whoa," she said as he hummed into a table. He was tall and sandy-haired and his physique was jaw-dropping lay amazing. "No way," she said. "Scapegrace?" The man looked at her, and shook his head. The a woman came charging out of the back room, slammed into the man and they both went rolling across the floor. "Give it to me!" The woman screamed. "Give it to me!" Nye scuttled over. "Mr Scapegrace, you know the procedure cannot be repeated, your brains are in far too deteriorated a condition." "You! Gave! Me! The! Wrong! Body!

A heart? Peppone knows where one is to be met with. There is always someone in the black market in need of dying early.

Ah, now,” crooned Adam, “here we are, then.” With infinite care, as though he were handling a babe, he lifted the sword out, and a sigh seemed to go through him. “Ah, my lovely, it’s been far too long.” “Shall I leave you two alone, then?” Eliza’s lips twitched. She’d never seen such a look of reverence mixed with old familiarity. It was nearly indecent. Adam spared her a glance. “Quiet woman, a man’s relationship with his sword is a sacred thing.” “So I’ve heard.

Ah, if only we were born roaring with laughter and took that emotional template through life with us! Whoever's in charge seriously messed up somewhere. I can only hope that right now, that selfsame Whoever is wryly relating their cock-up to some celestial colleague, who responds: 'Hey, you should put that in a book. LOL!

Ah, shit. She’s been crying. This is not good. I swear to God, a girl crying is fucking blackmail. It just makes you feel so damn guilty – no matter if you’ve done anything wrong or not – and have the bizarre urge to make her feel better.

A huge smile spread across Jen's face."Ahh that was a good one." She turned back to the crowed and yelled again."Rewind. We're going to party like it's 2009, New Year’s Eve. If you're curious as to how awesome a party that was, please see me, Jacque or Sally. Sally's version will be much more accurate, and also free of any important inappropriate details." Before she could say anything else, a large hand wrapped around the microphone and pulled it from Jen's grasp. Decebel handed it to Jacque as he growled at his mate and pulled her away.All the while Jen was telling him exactly how much she didn't appreciate him getting all up in her kool aide. She finished by telling him that, once again, she was going to shove her foot where an ‘Exit Only’ sign should be.

Ah,well," Said Abe, idly studying his fingertips. "I have it on good authority there's going to be a new 'gate' opening up soon over on the south side of the wall." The truth dawned on me. "Oh lord. You're the one who's been doling out C4." "You make it sound so easy," He said with a frown. "That stuffs hard to get a hold of.

Ah, sahib. I know you just come to comfort a old man left to live by hisself. Soomintra say I too old-fashion. And Leela, she always by you. Why you don’t sit down, sahib? It ain’t dirty. Is just how it does look.’ Ganesh didn’t sit down. ‘Ramlogan, I come to buy over your taxis.

Ah! The English language was a wonderful thing! You could always find the right word. He only wished he could speak the language.

...a kid, maybe eight years old, ran up and poked her in the ribs with a plastic laser weapon, making electric zinging noises as he repeatedly pulled the trigger. “You’re dead,” he said victoriously. His mother came hurrying up, looking harassed and helpless. “Damian, stop that!” She gave him a smile that was little more than a grimace. “Don’t bother the nice people.” “Shut up,” he said rudely. “Can’t you see they’re Terrons from Vaniot.” The kid poked her in the ribs again. “Ouch!” He made those zinging noises again, taking great pleasure in her discomfort. She plastered a big smile on her face and leaned down closer to precious Damian, then cooed in her most alienlike voice, “Oh, look, a little earthling.” She straightened and gave Sam a commanding look. “Kill it.” Damian’s mouth fell open. His eyes went as round as quarters as he took in the big pistol on Sam’s belt. From his open mouth began to issue a series of shrill noises that sounded like a fire alarm. Sam cursed under his breath, grabbed Jaine by the arm, and began tugging her at a half-trot toward the front of the store. She managed to snag her purse from the buggy as she went past. “Hey, my groceries!” she protested. “You can spend another three minutes in here tomorrow and get them,” he said with pent-up violence. “Right now I’m trying to keep you from getting arrested.” “For what?” she asked indignantly as he dragged her out of the automatic doors. People were turning to look at them, but most were following the sounds of Damian’s shrieks to aisle seven. “How about threatening to kill that brat and causing a riot?” “I didn’t threaten to loll him! I just ordered you to.

A jaw like a mastiff's, a frame like a giant's, eyes like two daggers, a smile like a tiger's snarl,"Bernard murmured. "Aye, he is all that!!" Master Herbert said."A murrain be on him! And when I came to him,what did I do? I did bow in all politeness, yet stiffly withal to show him I'd not brook his surliness." "I did hear ye did bow so low that your head came below your knees,"Bernard said.

A laugh a day does you more good than an apple – read a humours book ...

A legénység villámmegbeszélést tartott az előfedélzeten, elsősorban azért, mert Percy egy vörös színű tengeri óriáskígyót tartott szemmel, ami a part felőli oldalon úszkált a tengerben. — Ez jó piros – dünnyögte Percy. – Lehet, hogy cseresznyeízű.

Alexia sighed. "It is times like this I wish I could talk to my mother." "Good gracious, what good would that do, madam?" Floote was moved to speak by the outrageousness of Alexia's statement. "Well, whatever she said, I could simply take the opposite point of view.

A life is like a book of many chapters and topics. Which Chapter are is your life?

Alexia found herself surrounded and embraced by a room of such unmitigated welcome and personality that it was akin to being yelled at by plum pudding.

Al has known more than one unfortunate soul that has lost his ability to talk, after forgetting to hold his tongue.

A library without the distraction of a few handsome men and women is a library to avoid. If there is no respite from reading, to vacuously rest one’s tired eyes on them – what else is a library for, then?

All Chelsea's internet dates were gorgeous. Until she met them.

Allan supporta la privation pendant exactement cinq ans et trois semaines. Et puis un jour il annonça: maintenant j'ai envie de boire un coup. Et ici il n'y a rien à boire. Alors on s'en va.

All good writers are weird. Proudly weird.

All hail, Queen Shit-of-Liesville!

All he had was nothing, but that was something, and now it had been taken away.