Best 3518 quotes in «humour quotes» category

One land also shall ask another, and say, ‘Is righteousness that makes a man righteous gone through thee?’ And it shall say, ‘No.

One of the biggest religions on Roundworld was founded by a carpenter's son!' Ponder snarled. 'For years, the most powerful person on the planet was an actor! There's got to be room for Darwin!

One of the differences between us was that Marc wanted very badly to climb the Eiger, while I wanted very badly only to have climbed the Eiger. Marc, understand, is at that age when the pituitary secretes an overabundance of those hormones that mask the subtler emotions, such as fear. He tends to confuse things like life-or-death climbing with fun.

One of the most common and most dangerous misbeliefs is that it is impossible for someone to be stupid just because they are a doctor or a lawyer.

One of the leading causes of obesity is the misbelief that, when it comes to juice, ‘100%’ means ‘sugar-free.

One of the police found a garden chair that I could stand on and they eyed me suspiciously as I tried to slide through the window. The fleece that I was wearing was padding me out too much so I took it off. I tried again, and this time it was my pen, pen-torch and scissors in my shirt pocket that got in the way. I moved them into my trouser pocket. One of the police asked if it would help if I was buttered up. I pretended not to listen to him. Or the giggles of my crewmate.

One of the things about football fans in general is that they all think that they’re the same. But they are not. This is a myth put about by people who wish that they were the same as the geezers. There are, in fact, a number of distinctive types of supporter, and although they all have a role to play, they are all very different indeed.

One soldier picked up a dead Argentine, supported the corpse's weight underneath his arm, put a cigarette in the dead man's mouth, then one in his own. He then held a lighter under the corpse's cigarette and his friend took a photograph. They both laughed. I also laughed. This was foolish ― smoking can kill.

One quick glance around the room and I realise that I have somehow stumbled into a wannabe serial killer convention. Every single person in the room looks as if they are concealing a weapon of some sort. My heart thuds rapidly in my chest as I sneak past an elderly man who grins lecherously at me, flashing his gold tooth. Oh dear God, I’m going to die! First, I get dumped – on my birthday no less – and now I’m going to get knifed in some seedy bar!

One understands then why woman has no sexual parts, properly speaking. It is because she is herself a sexual part - a sexual part of man, to cumbersome for him to carry around permanently and therefore deposited outside himself for most of the time and taken up when needed. Moreover the quality that distinguishes man from animals is this very power of equipping himself at any moment with an instrument, tool or arm that he needs, but that he can get rid of straight away, whereas the lobster has to drag his two pincers about with him everywhere. And just as mans hand is a sort of grappling hook that enables him to grasp a hammer, sword or fountain pen according to his needs, so his sex is the sort of grappling hook of the sexual parts rather than the sexual part itslef.

One thing that has remained constant, across four centuries, has been the desire for a British person to fill a silence with talk of the weather, and whenever I have lived there I was no exception to this rule.

One thing she did not know was the greatest book on human psychology is the Bible. If you were lazy and did not wish to work, or if you had failed to make your way in the society, you could always say 'my kingdom is not of this world'. If you were a jet-set woman who believed in sleeping around, VD or no VD you could always say Mary Magdalene had no husband but didn't she wash the feet of our Lord? 'Wasn't she the first person to see our risen Saviour'? If on the other hand you believed in the inferiority of the Blacks you could always say 'slaves obey your Master. It's a mysterious book, one of the greatest of all books, if not the greatest. Hasn't it got all the answers?

On growing peonies: The fact that a flower as gentle and delightful as the peony should be so exacting and dictate such harsh terms hits me with the force of a cold shower. It's just like my girlfriends when I was a teenager, it was always the loveliest and most yielding ones who ran everything...[and] According to the English gardening book, peonies are so fussy that you might as well not bother. You'd need to go back generations to discover the composition of the soil, you'd have to go right back to the Big Bang to find out how the elements are distributed in your garden.

Only a man with nothing to hide could make that kind of racket.

(on learning Westlife had beaten Oasis, U2 and The Beatles in an album chart battle in November 2006): There is no God.

Only dead fishes go with the flow.. I guess that make me a dead fish!

Only someone who isn’t a fool stands a chance of not being bothered by being deemed a fool by a fool.

Only men with intelligence, confidence and absolutely no empathy at all can progress upstairs.

Only the great warriors fall down from their horses; one would not fall who rides a donkey cart.

On peut rire de tout mais pas avec n'importe qui.

[On setting all clocks at varying times in advance...] A selfless gesture on my part which ensures I am never late, but really only means that I spend time waiting not only for people who are late but also for people who are on time.

On my first day in London I made an early start. Reaching the Public Record Office not much after ten, I soon secured the papers I needed for my research and settled in my place. I became, as is the way of the scholar, so deeply absorbed as to lose all consciousness of my surroundings or of the passage of time. When at last I came to myself, it was almost eleven and I was quite exhausted: I knew I could not prudently continue without refreshment.

On the drive up here, I saw a goose," he says. "A Canada goose. Fred told me they shit something horrible. They migrate between the north and the south, don't they? Like seniors.

On the first day of his holiday Laurence Manders woke to hear his grandmother’s voice below. ‘I’ll have a large wholemeal. I’ve got my grandson stopping for a week, who’s on the BBC. That’s my daughter’s boy, Lady Manders. He won’t eat white bread, one of his fads.’ Laurence shouted from the window, ‘Grandmother, I adore white bread and I have no fads.

On the sixth day god created man, on the seventh day man created god. Now we are even.

On the other side of St John’s house is a fake egg timer who can’t maintain an erection. He shares the property with a glossy beef burger called Tom, who has been painted by a seven year old magistrate in order to be entered for this year’s Miss East Lancashire competition. Next door to them is a Dundee cake with a lisp.

(on the word "fuck") 'Oh, come on, Mum,' I sighed at her protest. 'It's just an old Anglo-Saxon word for the female organ which has been adopted by an inherently misogynist language as a negative epithet. It's the same as "fuck", it basically means the same as copulate, but the latter is perfectly acceptable. Why? Because copulate has its roots in Latin and Latin reminds us that we are a sophisticated, learned species, not the rutting animals that these prehistoric grunts would have us appear to be, and isn't that really the issue here? We don't want to admit that we are essentially animals? We want to distinguish ourselves from the fauna with grand conceits and elaborate language; become angels worthy of salvation, not dumb creatures consigned to an earthly, terminal end. It's just a word, Mum; a sound meaning a thing; and your disgust is just denial of a greater horror: that our consciousness is not an indication of our specialness but the terrifying key to knowing how truly insignificant we are.' She told me to got fuck myself.

Ooh, a mystery!’ the old lady squealed, briefly looking half alive.

Open this fucking door now Nell.” “Go away,” I shout furiously. “If you don’t open it I’m going to break the fucker down.” I’m horrified. “You wouldn’t do that. This is a really nice hotel.” “Nell, I’m a fucking rock star sweetheart. They’ll consider themselves lucky if there’s still a functioning TV in here when I leave. Now are you going to open this door?

On y voit comme à travers un pelle là-dedans... Hé lumières!!! Pff bande de fainéants... Ah ça, pour roupiller, vous êtes fortiche (s'esclaffe) Les chevaliers de la Table Ronde... CHEVALIERS DE MES DEUX !!! Chuis p... chuis pas roi, moi ? C'est p..., c'est pas moi le roi ?! (dégainant Excalibur) Et ça, c'est du nougat ??? Tout seul, je vais le chercher le Graal, moi, et la vie éternelle, c'est pour bibi !!! Et vous, vous irez vous gratter!!!

Opposites attract but only to torture each other.

Operation 'forget bossy werewolf guy' has been green-lighted?" Sally asked. Jen covered her face and groaned at Sally's words. "Did you seriously just say that? Operation forget bossy werewolf guy? Really, Sally?" Sally nodded in all seriousness. "Well, if you're going to call our night out an operation – and you know how I love ops– at least get it right. It's operation 'forget freaking fine, brooding, bossy werewolf guy'," Jen supplied. "Good call.

Or that time she made a snowman in Britt-Marie and Kent’s garden right under their balcony and dressed it up in grown-up clothes so it looked as if a person had fallen from the roof.

Otis," I said. "Shhh," he said. "I'm incognito. Call me...Otis." "I'm not sure that's how incognito works, but okay." Otis, aka Otis climbed into the chair I'd reserved for Sam.

Other married people have lived together and hated each other. Why shouldn't we? We may forget even to hate.

Our car was packed up like a real blackfella's car... All someone needed to do was give it a paint job proper way - dots and that.

Our bellies are empty and our patience is short...submit to us and we will make of you a great quiche!' 'Again with the QUICHE?! What kind of self-respecting monster would eat a DAINTY PASTRY DISH?! STEW is what we will make of their bones!' 'Don't get greedy on me! There's three of them! I just want the little one for my quiche!' 'It was nothing to do with greed! It's a matter of principle! MONSTERS DO NOT EAT QUICHE!

Our friend Chewy doesn’t speak much, but he chews a lot of tobacco so we call him Chewbacco.

Our friend, Gor – he’s the bony, old one, by the tallboy – has been suffering strange occurrences, spirit.

Our senses inform us of the colour, weight, and consistence of bread; but neither sense nor reason can ever inform us of those qualities which fit it for the nourishment and support of a human body.

Over the years, I have been subjected to many indignities, all for the sake of Art. If I ever catch him, I'm going to kill the guy.

...our witness, one Edward Littleton, was as gay as Elton John's handbag.

Ousep looked carefully at the priest. A fifty-year-old virgin, a fully grown man in a white gown who believed that he was an elf who connected God to man, this clown thought Unni was strange.

Out of all the things you would expect when facing a dragon, silence was not on the list. Roaring? Certainly! Snarling? Why, yes - of course! Fire-breathing? Couldn’t possibly do without it. Wouldn’t feel right if it wasn’t there. But silence? No. Definitely not. It was as out of place as a potter at a blacksmith’s.

Over my opponent's shoulder, I saw Other Ash block an upward strike, then lash out with a kick that sent Puck sprawling onto his back. The reflection stepped forward, raising his sword, but Puck reached back, grabbed a handful of twigs and flung it at his assailant. They turned into a swarm of yellow jackets, buzzing around the fake prince, until a vicious burst of cold sent them plummeting to the ground, coated in frost. "Hey!" Other Puck stabbed forward viciously, making me keep back to avoid him. "The fight's here, ice-boy. Don't worry about your boyfriend, worry about yourself.

O woman, father says natural is beautiful so why do you redden your cheeks and blacken your eyes? Why do you remove the hair on your legs and draw them into your brows? Why do you hold your breath lest your stomach show and hold your fart lest they know that you’re a human? O woman, father says natural is beautiful so why do you straighten your hair to curl it next and pretend to orgasm so they think you enjoyed the sex? Why do you dumb yourself down and push your breasts up? Why do you smile when you’re told to and love when you don’t want to? When? When will you stop, woman? Father says natural is beautiful but that is doubtful for what does father know he’s only a fellow.

Ow. Stop that. It hurts my brain. Isn't your brain distributed through your entire body? See why I want you to stop with the doublethink? -Sergeant Schlock & Captain Tagon

Ozzy's cage is now sparkling but there is a problem. It seems that if you put vast quantities of sawdust down a toilet, the toilet stops working.

..."Papa" referred to Frank five times as: "...the blood son of Dr. Felix Hoenikker." The phrase reeked of cannibalism.

Par le bois du Djinn où s’entasse de l’effroi Parle ! Bois du gin ou cent tasses de lait froid