Best 66 quotes in «fart quotes» category

My father once told me, and it's stuck with me to this day: As you walk through life, every time you fart it pushes you forward.

My waist is a 30. The jeans are a 28. When I fart, the Reeboks blow off.

ObamaCare is to health care as a fart is to an elevator.

Right now, the old guys, the old farts, if you will, are still running the show, and the women haven't gotten their place yet at all.

Though I've turned 21, I don't drink. I'm an old hag now. I'm just an old fart.

Robert Plant asked me to marry him, but I said 'no.' I mean, you just don't want to marry someone you've wanted to do it with since you were thirteen, because, well, if he farts, I would, like, die!

So, you're worried that a pink dragon will fly over the concent and fart nerve gas on us?

Success is like a fart - only your own smells nice.

There is Harlan Ellison the human being, who takes a crap a couple of times a day, and who farts, and who eats chicken croquettes, if I can find them. And then there is the writer, this writer-person, who is a much finer person than I. Much more orderly, much more meaningful. Worthier, than I [am].

Some of them relate to farts but they are not fart jokes. They would just be a fart in the joke but it's about something else.

That has less significance than a dog's fart.

The average pregnant woman farts 15 times that!

The worst thing a girl could do on a date is fart louder than me.

You stand out like a fart in a church.

You never want to look like an old fart doing young rap music.

Your job today is to pass gas. You do that and we can start feeding you liquids. No fart, no food.

I don't know the ultimate fate of a suppressed fart.

He that lives upon hope will die farting.

A celebrity farts, and everyone endures, but the unpopular will be thrased to death.

An employer’s fart is music to his employees’ ears.

Coinman lets out another legendary explosive from his hindquarters!

Griselda, satisfied she’d solved the riddle, and the pressure relieved, farted. She prescribed a bowl of tansy, good for killing worms and cleansing the bowels.

I swear by the self-assurance with which elderly men sitting in public tilt sideways to allow the gas to escape loudly.

I want to do it too!” said Gazzy, sitting very, very quietly, completely motionless. “Nope,” said Nudge, shaking her head. “You stand out like a fart in church.

My sweet naughty girl I got your hot letter tonight and have been trying to picture you frigging your cunt in the closet. How do you do it? Do you stand against the wall with your hand tickling up under your clothes or do you squat down on the hole with your skirts up and your hand hard at work in through the slit of your drawers? Does it give you the horn now to shit? I wonder how you can do it. Do you come in the act of shitting or do you frig yourself off first and then shit? It must be a fearfully lecherous thing to see a girl with her clothes up frigging furiously at her cunt, to see her pretty white drawers pulled open behind and her bum sticking out and a fat brown thing stuck half-way out of her hole. You say you will shit your drawers, dear, and let me fuck you then. I would like to hear you shit them, dear, first and then fuck you. Some night when we are somewhere in the dark and talking dirty and you feel your shite ready to fall put your arms round my neck in shame and shit it down softly. The sound will madden me and when I pull up your dress.

Love is like a fart. It's warm, unpredictable. And sometimes it stinks, but it can also be the best feeling in the world. That's why I'm so happy that I passed you that day. I know now...I fart you

« Maman ! hurle Carmen, en voyant que je partais et que j'avais déjà un pied dehors. Ne t'en va donc pas comme ça ! Laisse-nous quelque chose, en attendant que Lucien trouve du travail ! » « Tout ce que j'peux vous laisser, c'est ça ! » que j'leurs dis , en levant une jambe et en lâchant un pet.

My sweet little whorish Nora I did as you told me, you dirty little girl, and pulled myself off twice when I read your letter. I am delighted to see that you do like being fucked arseways. Yes, now I can remember that night when I fucked you for so long backwards. It was the dirtiest fucking I ever gave you, darling. My prick was stuck in you for hours, fucking in and out under your upturned rump. I felt your fat sweaty buttocks under my belly and saw your flushed face and mad eyes. At every fuck I gave you your shameless tongue came bursting out through your lips and if a gave you a bigger stronger fuck than usual, fat dirty farts came spluttering out of your backside. You had an arse full of farts that night, darling, and I fucked them out of you, big fat fellows, long windy ones, quick little merry cracks and a lot of tiny little naughty farties ending in a long gush from your hole. It is wonderful to fuck a farting woman when every fuck drives one out of her. I think I would know Nora’s fart anywhere. I think I could pick hers out in a roomful of farting women. It is a rather girlish noise not like the wet windy fart which I imagine fat wives have. It is sudden and dry and dirty like what a bold girl would let off in fun in a school dormitory at night. I hope Nora will let off no end of her farts in my face so that I may know their smell also. You say when I go back you will suck me off and you want me to lick your cunt, you little depraved blackguard. I hope you will surprise me some time when I am asleep dressed, steal over to me with a whore’s glow in your slumberous eyes, gently undo button after button in the fly of my trousers and gently take out your lover’s fat mickey, lap it up in your moist mouth and suck away at it till it gets fatter and stiffer and comes off in your mouth. Sometimes too I shall surprise you asleep, lift up your skirts and open your drawers gently, then lie down gently by you and begin to lick lazily round your bush. You will begin to stir uneasily then I will lick the lips of my darling’s cunt. You will begin to groan and grunt and sigh and fart with lust in your sleep. Then I will lick up faster and faster like a ravenous dog until your cunt is a mass of slime and your body wriggling wildly. Goodnight, my little farting Nora, my dirty little fuckbird! There is one lovely word, darling, you have underlined to make me pull myself off better. Write me more about that and yourself, sweetly, dirtier, dirtier.

Listening to her spooling out impractical and transcendental picture-concepts like a hyperventilating tickertape he felt the weight lift from him, floating in a sweet and putrid lager fart to dissipate beneath the starry, vast obsidian pudding bowl of closing time, inverted and set down upon the Burroughs as though keeping flies away.

Most people would rather eat inside a windowless room in which they have just defecated than eat inside one in which someone else has just farted, even if the room does not have a toilet.

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.

Of all the various kinds of sexual intercourse, this has the least to recommend it. As an amusement, it is too fleeting; as an occupation, it is too wearing; as a public exhibition, there is no money in it. It is unsuited to the drawing room, and in the most cultured society it has long been banished from the social board. It has at last, in our day of progress and improvement, been degraded to brotherhood with flatulence. Among the best bred, these two arts are now indulged in only private--though by consent of the whole company, when only males are present, it is still permissible, in good society, to remove the embargo on the fundamental sigh.

The notion of "cause and effect" is sometimes useful in real life, and it can even be interesting in art, but I'm more interested in "cause and cause" or "effect and effect" or "and and and".

Some well-meaning folks think if we stop talking about racism, it’ll magically disappear, like the smell of an errant fart. But like a fart, people might try to be polite and ignore it, but everyone knows it’s there. Avoidance has never been a great tactic in solving any problem. For most situations in life, not addressing what's going wrong only makes matters worse. It’s like someone breaks your arm, and the person who slammed the baseball bat into it is saying, 'The only reason it won’t heal is because you keep complaining that it hurts.' How about you get me a cast so the bone can set straight again? America does not want to put the effort into providing this cast. This is why we must talk about race, and we must do it openly.

The greatest fart ive herd of all time came from a man called big al bundy. As we were leaving work, he was in full momentum walking with great pace and a spring in his step telling every one a story. And then came straight outa crapton, RUMPA, PUMP, THUMP!. In a 3 part fart it hesitated to exit big al on first and second attempt, but on the 3rd and final push he flexed his right leg giving more rev than a Ferrari. He let off an atomic bomb, it could have welded the titanic back together. Best part about it, bundy just kept on bobbing along outa work with his spade in hand and wife beater tucked into levies.

Suddenly, she emitted a loud, long fart, like air escaping a beach ball, exhaust pipe of a Model T, tire-inflating hose at the service station, and this without any forewarning borborygmus.

A fart is just your arse applauding.

This Nicholas anon leet fle a fart As greet as it had been a thonder-dent, That with the strook he was almoost yblent; And he was redy with his iren hoot, And Nicholas amydde the ers he smoot. Of gooth the skyn an hande-brede aboute, The hoote kultour brende so his toute, And for the smert he wende for to dye.

To fart or not to fart, that is the question.

What happened next… well, I'm going to blame it on the fact that I was scared. And I had just flown or fallen or something through about eighty years worth of Time. Or maybe it was the beans. I farted. I farted loud enough that it echoed around the small closet, bounced off all four walls and finally escaped through the open door. At least that's what it did in my mind's eye.

There's a place for farts, and there's a place for sharts.

Wait!" said Erbrechen, suddenly feeling jovial. "I change my mind. Never shite again. Ever. Anywhere." It was a small thing, but of such small things were life's joys truly made. The thought, he knew, would keep him smiling for days. "The world is a comedy, intoned Erbrechen, tittering, "and each must play his fart.

You’re lucky you’re good in bed.” “Oh.” He grabbed at my foot. “I think you keep me around for other reasons.” I slanted him a look out of the corner of my eye. “Right now, for the life of me I can’t think what those reasons are.” Braden tugged harder on my foot, raising his fingers towards it. “Take it back or the foot getsit.” Oh hell no! I yanked at my appendage. “Braden, no.” Deaf to my warning, he started to tickle me,his grip tightening as I laughed breathlessly and kicked out, trying to get free. He wouldn’t stop. Ruthless! “Braden,” I panted hysterically, attempting to shove at him with my arms but struggling as he continued his war on my feet. I laughed harder, ribs aching, and then… horror. I broke wind. Big time. Braden immediately let go of my feet, his loud, rumbling laugh filling the room, laughter that only deepened when I lost balance, from kicking out at him and then being abruptly let go, and fell off the couch with an undignified thud. Mortified as he collapsed against the couch belly laughing at my fart then fall, I grabbed a cushion and launched it at him from my position on the floor. Of course this only made the idiot laugh harder. I warred between feeling humiliation at farting in front of him, something you just didn’t do in company, and laughing, since his was so infectious. “Braden!” I whined. “Shut up. It’s not funny,” I huffed, my lips caught in part smile, part grimace. “Oh babe,” he tried to catch his breath, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye as he grinned down at me. “That was definitely funny.” He held out a hand to help me up. I slapped it away. “You’re such an immature a-hole.” “Hey, I’m not the one who just let off.” Oh God, it was so awful. I groaned, falling onto my back and covering my eyes with my hands. “Jocelyn,” I felt his hand on my knee and heard the amusement in his voice. “Babe, why are you so embarrassed? It was just a fart. Brilliantly timed I might add.” I sucked in the mortification. “Oh my God, shut up.” He chuckled again and I snapped open my furious eyes. “You’re enjoying this!” “Well yeah,” he huffed, eyes bright. “I’ve never seen you embarrassed before. Even when I walked in on you naked you gave me attitude and acted like you didn’t care. That you’re mortified by a fart is really quite adorable.” “I am not adorable!” “Oh I think you are.

A happy fart never comes from a miserable ass.

Any man can fart in a closed room and say that he commands the wind

And now to sleep, to dream...perchance to fart.

Farts and poop are still funny and will always be funny.

Did I not tell you earlier that a Jew is such a noble, precious jewel that God and all the angels dance when he farts?

As pissed as a fart in a vacuum cleaner.

At one time or another, farts have coincided with every other sound, including this quote.