Best 3518 quotes in «humour quotes» category

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

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

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

I want the evening upon which we lose our collective virginities to be special. I'm no parthenologist but I suspect that Jordana's virginity is still intact. Her biological knowledge is minimal. She thinks that a perineum is to do with glacial moraine.

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 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 was an owl in the darkness, looming over this black and white Dominican mouse with her little pink rodent hands working the old projector. I was a panther in short socks, teeth clenched and eyes fixed on my prey.

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

I was coming down off the last painkiller left in my dresser drawer after Autumn tossed my stash. In that moment I was so groggy and happy I would have accepted a date with Oscar the Grouch - and planned to do some serious feeling up on the green furry beast too. Yeah, stooping to pharmaceutical-inspired sex fantasies about garbage can Sesame Street characters - that had to be the best Just Say No drug lecture a girl in a leg cast could ever receive to make her go cold turkey off the meds.

I was convinced I had overdrawn my balance of good fortune; that whatever haphazard benevolence the impassive universe might hold towards me was all but gone.

I was distracted, thinking about what she'd said, until she got to this last part. "Sherman?" I said. She nodded. "That's John and Craig's friend. He's visiting from Shreveport." "Sherman from Shreveport?" I said. "This is the guy you're determined I go out with?" "You can't judge a book by its cover!" she snapped. When I slid my eyes toward Forbidden, she grabbed it up, shoving it back under the bed. "You know what I mean. Sherman might be very nice.

I was fired ignominiously from the Junior School Choir for being so off tune that the choir mistress declared she couldn't even bear to have me mime.

I was going to become a human sand burger.

I was emotionally erect.

I was glad to be made aware that “Veimke” (jeune fille au pair), is subject to natural law, and can be made fat, by such things as poor diet, and alcohol.

I was just thinking that it would be nice if, for once in a while, life made things easier,” I told him, feeling annoyed. “Why does life have to throw impossible tasks at us all the time for crying out loud?” At hearing my debate, Luna huffed. “Because life’s a bitch,” she growled under her breath, sulking. “That’s why.

I was not so comfortable with my new authority that I could say 'We eat the chicken now!' but the magus had seen that I was considering it... "My purse is full enough," said the magus, "to keep you supplied with roast chickens." "So, so, so," I said. "We know who the power behind the throne is," and the magus laughed. "You eat more than Gen did after prison," he said. "I have more sympathy with him all the time. Are you going to finish that drumstick?" I asked. "I am. Stop staring at it.

I was proud to be brown in my own way. Well, I was at school; at school I was brown about the funky stuff that came with being vegetarian, like being really arrogant about it, declaring proudly to a room full of beefeaters when Mad Cow disease initially broke that it was 'Vishnu's way of telling y'all to stop eating and start worshipping'.

I was playing Rasputin and what was motivating him was crumpet really, and I was extremely keen on crumpet so I was really rather good as Rasputin. And my next catastrophic failure was Macbeth, who I played in the style of a crumpet-lover, and then when Doctor Who came along, I embraced this lunacy, this cloud-cuckoo-land where people had to be convinced by absolute nonsense. I came from a very religious background, so it was easy for me to believe in something I knew nothing about.

I was practically The Boy in the Bubble; all my autoimmune responses stripped bare by chemical representations of pine forests and summer meadows.

I was so attracted to him I could have peed myself right there on the spot, but I hadn't done anything like that in a while. I was older now, and harnessed my feelings in moments like these by opening and closing my fists very rapidly.

I was trying to do you a favor, you silly woman. A few more hours in the fire, and your baby boy would have been immortal! He would’ve grown into a fine young god and brought you eternal honor. Now you’ve ruined the magic. He will simply be human—a great hero, yes, strong and tall, but doomed to a mortal life. He will only be Demophoon, when he could have been Fully Phoon! Phoon the Great!

I was tempted to tell her it was because we were British and actually had a sense of humour, but I try not to be cruel to foreigners, especially when they're that strung out.

I was trying to seduce him just by being physically near him. Like, seduction by osmosis. It works in movies constantly.

I was woken early and had breakfast with the guru. We had some spicy Rice Krispies and a spicy biscuit with some really sweet, milky tea. Not the way I normally like it, but I drank it anyway as I didn’t want to offend him. I suppose that is my heart telling me how to act instead of my head again. My arse may get involved later though.

I was wary of my sister's cooking, which invariably consisted of a tubular pasta and economy cheese, charred black on the surface, with either tinned tuna or lardy mince lurking beneath the molten crust ... So that evening, in a tiny flat in Tooting, I was pushed into the tiny kitchen where sixteen people sat crammed around a tiny trestle table designed for pasting wallpaper, one of my sister's notorious pasta bakes smouldering in its centre like a meteorite, smelling of toasted cat food.

I went into a forest into a plain, and the trees took counsel- And said, Come, let us go and make war against the sea that it may depart away before us, and that we may make us more woods. The floods of the sea also in like manner took counsel, and said, Come, let us go up and subdue the woods of the plain, that there also we may make us another country. The thought of the wood was in vain, for the fire came and consumed it. The thought of the floods of the sea came likewise to nought, for the sand stood up and stopped them. If thou wart judge now betwixt these two, whom would thou begin to justify? or whom would thou condemn?

I welcome reviews from all readers. I take criticism well; but please . . . no comments on my author face!

I will go further and say all cats are wicked, though often useful. Who has not seen Satan in their sly faces? Some preachers will say, well, that is superstitious "claptrap." My answer is this: Preacher, go to your Bible and read Luke 8: 26-33