Best 3518 quotes in «humour quotes» category

The feeling of 'turning into your dad' is nothing compared to the realisation that your son is turning into you.

The first draft of your book is not something you are going to want to show anyone. Sorry! As much as you have sweated and toiled over it… it is most likely a crude assembly of scenes with a bit of a mishmash plot at best.

The first step towards true enlightenment is to lighten up on yourself.

The first two tracks were pop songs from the 1970s, sung in Danish in a style that was best described as Abba without joy.

The forgiveness of God flows through me and because I am forgiven, I can forgive.

The flowers danced, knowing that they will die.

The Four are here. They just requested permission to enter the perimeter. I need to spell Jessa now.” I let out a large sigh. “Those assholes could not wait until after breakfast, seriously.” My parents’ horror-filled eyes locked on me. “What? A girl’s got to eat. It’s just rude.

The glamour's off. Almost any question you ask can be answered. It's only the questions that you didn't know to ask that remain, dancing the can-can behind your back. The unknown unknowns.

The gentleman had been an uncommonly affable fellow, but every time he counted to twenty (and he seemed to do so with strange frequency), he skipped the number twelve.

The gods damn you, look what you've done! If I want to grow this back, I'll have to endure the most terrifying sex imaginable! Gaahhhhhhh!

The grain of evil seed had been sown in the heart of Adam from the beginning, and how much ungodliness had it brought up unto this time? and how much shall it yet bring forth until the time of threshing come?

The government are tightening up on ID for sales of tobacco and alcohol so I recommend that young people take more drugs.

The good thing about the aristocracy – German or English – was that they were easily traced, Mirabelle thought.

The good shepherd saves his sheep.

the great advantage of really contemporary fiction is that one finds oneself mirrored on every page

The great are eternally at the mercy of tiny men. And also, tiny madwomen.

the great advantage of really contemporary fiction is that one finds oneself mirror on every page

The grass on the other side of the hill may well be greener, but you should always check that there isn't something with teeth and claws crouching in it.

The greatest futility! says the congregator, "The greatest futility! Everything is futile!" What does a person gain from all his hard work- At which he toils under the sun? A generation goes and another cometh forth, but the earth remains the same.

The Hamians!' The centurion‟s voice was little better than a squeak. Julius snorted his disdain. 'What about the Hamians? Useless bow-waving women. All they‟re good for is hunting game. There‟s a war on, in case you hadn‟t noticed. We need infantrymen, big lads with spears and shields to strengthen our line. Archers are no bloody use in an infantry cohort.' He raised his meaty fist. 'No, mate, you‟re going to get what‟s coming your way.' The other man gabbled desperately, staring helplessly at the poised fist. 'There‟s two centuries of them, two centuries. Take them and the Tungrians and that‟s two hundred and fifty men.' Marcus spoke, having stood quietly in the background so far. 'So we could make a century of the best of them, dump the rest on the Second Cohort when we catch up with them and take back the century he sold them in return.' Julius turned his head to look at the younger man, keeping the transit officer clamped in place with seemingly effortless strength. 'Are you mad? There won‟t be a decent man among them. They‟ll be arse-poking, make-up-wearing faggots, the lot of them. All those easterners are, it‟s in the blood. They‟ll mince round the camp holding hands and tossing each other off in the bathhouse.

The Greeks believed that it was a citizen's duty to watch a play. It was a kind of work in that it required attention, judgement, patience, all the social virtues." "And the Greek were conquered by the more practical Romans, Arthur." "Indeed, the Romans built their bridges, but they also spent many centuries wishing they were Greeks. And they, after all, were conquered by the barbarians, or by their own corrupt and small spirits.

The hamster-powered hat is the same as any other hat. It keeps your head warm and looks smart,' the inventor said. 'The hamster generates heat by running on the wheel. If you get a big enough hamster, it will keep your whole face warm.

The Guti were a band of mountain barbarians. It's always the way, isn't it? Everything is blamed on 'the barbarians

The hardest part about walking away from someone is the part where you realize that, no matter how slowly you go, they will never run after you.

The height of a man’s wall or fence is usually a reflection of the depth or shallowness of his neighbours’ pockets.

The homeland might be lacking snakes, but it held its share of venom.

The human population would probably be way less than a thousand, if ejaculation were not usually accompanied by an orgasm.

The holy stone looked for all the world like a small iron pineapple, its surface divided into squares by deep grooves, a tarnished silver-steel handle or lever held tight to the side. In ancient times the pineapple was ever the symbol of welcome, though the church used the objects in a different way. Apparently, each theological student of good family and destined for high office was given one on beginning their training and forbidden from pulling the lever on pain of excommunication. A test of obedience they called it. A test of curiosity I called it. Clearly the church wanted bishops who lacked the imagination for exploration and questioning.

The house in the story is based on my friend Tori's house in Kinsale, Ireland, which is obviously not actually haunted, and the sound of people upstairs moving wardrobes around when you are downstairs there and alone is probably just something that old houses do when they think they are unobserved.

The innocent little girl said at the end of her prayer "Jesus, please take care of yourself because if anything happens to you, we are all in trouble

The idea that this end of philosophy— at least, of political philosophy and (I claim) moral philosophy— has close relations with history overlaps with a more ambitious view held by a consistently underestimated Oxford philosopher, R. G. Collingwood. The trouble with Collingwood’s kind of commitment is that it requires one to know some history. My two associates in the view I am sketching are Alasdair MacIntyre and Charles Taylor. They are both Roman Catholics, though of different sorts. I used to find this a disquieting fact but no longer do so. All three of us, I could say, accept the significant role of Christianity in understanding modern moral consciousness, and adopt respectively the three possible views about how to move in relation to that: backward in it, forward in it, and out of it. In any case, we all assume some historical commitments, they on a more ambitious scale than I, and perhaps there is a rather nervous competition for who writes the most irresponsible history.

The initial design called for 3 legs but the idea was dropped when the Kamasutra people threatened to resign.

The joke is generally in the oddest way the truth and yet not the fact.

The idea of getting a, you know, syringe full of heroin and shooting it in the vein under my cock right now seems like almost a productive act.

The Jardin Massey looked dismal today, rain lashed and deserted. She watched a bedraggled pigeon, feathers puffed out, sheltering beneath a branch.She'd never made a will, never considered whether she'd rather her body was buried or burnt to grey powder. And where would she want to be buried - in a French graveyard, gaudy with plastic flowers? If she made a will, could she state an aversion to plastic?

The kangaroo has a double penis - one for week days and one for holidays.

The kind of lies that someone tells us gives us an idea of how stupid, knowledgeable, intelligent, or ignorant they are … or they think we are.

The landlord of the lodging, who had heard that they were a queer couple, had doubted if they were married at all, especially as he had seen Arabella kiss Jude one evening when she had taken a little cordial; and he was about to give them notice to quit, till by chance overhearing her one night haranguing Jude in rattling terms, and ultimately flinging a shoe at his head, he recognized the note of ordinary wedlock; and concluding that they must be respectable, said no more.

The land, that thou see now to have root, shall thou see wasted suddenly.

The large bedroom was crammed to overflowing with family relics, and examples of the various arts in which Lady Emily had brilliantly dabbled at one time or another. Part of one wall was decorated with a romantic landscape painted on the plaster, the fourpost bed was hung with her own skilful embroidery, watercolour drawings in which a touch of genius fought and worsted an entire want of technique hung on the walls. Pottery, woodcarving, enamels, all bore witness to their owner’s insatiable desire to create. From their earliest days the Leslie children had thought of their mother as doing or making something, handling brush, pencil, needle with equal enthusiasm, coming in late to lunch with clay in her hair, devastating the drawing-room with her far-flung painting materials, taking cumbersome pieces of embroidery on picnics, disgracing everyone by a determination to paint the village cricket pavilion with scenes from the life of St Francis for which she made the gardeners pose. What Mr Leslie thought no one actually knew, for Mr Leslie had his own ways of life and rarely interfered. Once only had he been known to make a protest. In the fever of an enamelling craze, Lady Emily had a furnace put up in the service-room, thus making it extremely difficult for Gudgeon and the footman to get past, and moreover pressing the footman as her assistant when he should have been laying lunch.

The last thing he wanted was to see the bright, shining, happy faces of the other angels up there.

The library could be summed up in three words – enormous, ancient and dusty – extremely dusty. It was exactly like those magnificent libraries you more or less see in every gothic movie. What’s more, I was thankful that I was not an asthmatic, for this was most definitely their form of hell.

The last time everyone loved or at least liked everyone was when the world had a population of about 4.

The least we each ought to do for someone who treats us like a king or a queen is to treat them like a prince or a princess.

The look in her eyes told me that under any other circumstances, I would either already be naked with her on top of me, or lying in a pool of my own blood on the rug.

The log officer handed me a pair of examination gloves. Pink. Everyone else wore red or black. “Thanks.” I glanced at her name tag. “Officer Kennedy.” “You’re welcome. They support breast cancer awareness.” I snapped on the gloves. “I knew that. I’m always willing to do my part to keep breasts safe.” “We appreciate that, sir.

The lot of the bride to be wed before bed desired until rotten. The lot of the author to be read before bed admired then forgotten.

The longest piece of literature I've read lately was a tattoo on this biker I picked up last night. It said, If you're this close, you've gotta suck it.

The Macedonian Endeavour Channel was screening live coverage of the world series of the Who’s Got the Stupidest Name (WGSN) competition. First prize had already gone to Brian Burdock, a French Algerian with a penchant for Longchamp.

The main causes for divorce are marriages.