Best 841 quotes in «irony quotes» category

Hay quienes dicen que, de ser rubia, podría hacer de Bridges Jones sin problemas. Deben estar bromeando, porque nunca he preparado una sopa azul

Haw! Haw! Inconceivable stupidity is just what you're going to get! (Brigadier-General Henry Wilson, on being challenged in 1910 about the likelihood of a European war)

He also said that he marvelled that among the Greeks, those who were skilful in a thing contend together; but those who have no such skill act as judges of the contest.

He aquí lo que obligó en todos los tiempos a los padres de la nación a recurrir a la intervención del cielo, (...) a fin de que los pueblos obedeciesen con libertad y llevasen dócilmente el yugo de la felicidad pública.

He gave me a warm smile, and I blinked, realizing he was cute. I'd never really had the luxury of noticing cuteness or lack thereof in guys. Mostly it was the lethal/nonlethal distinction that I went with

He gave me the key, which I later discovered would open practically every door in the hotel. I thanked him, and I made a small mistake we irony collectors often make: I tried to share an irony with a stranger. It can’t be done. I told him I had been in the Arapahoe before—in Nineteen-hundred and Thirty-one. He was not interested.

He had been trying to measure the distance between the earth and God.

He had had much experience of physicians, and said 'the only way to keep your health is to eat what you don't want, drink what you don't like, and do what you'd druther not'.

He had the tendency, unfortunate for a new member of the committee, to like if not the rich themselves, at least their activities and surroundings, and to dislike the poor; a woman in rags toting a baby, barefoot children, made him feel sadistic rather than compassionate. His socialism, then, had the impatience and unfriendliness of a fashionable doctor forced to attend a tramp run over in the street.

He himself, Anthony went on to think, he himself had chosen to regard the whole process as either pointless or a practical joke. Yes, chosen. For it had been an act of the will. If it were all nonsense or a joke, then he was at liberty to read his books and exercise his talents for sarcastic comment; there was no reason why he shouldn't sleep with any presentable woman who was ready to sleep with him. If it weren't nonsense, if there was some significance, then he could no longer live irresponsibly. There were duties towards himself and others and the nature of things. Duties with whose fulfilment the sleeping and the indiscriminate reading and the habit of detached irony would interfere. He had chosen to think it nonsense, and nonsense for more than twenty years the thing had seemed to be – nonsense, in spite of occasional uncomfortable intimations that there might be a point, and that the point was precisely in what he had chosen to regard as the pointlessness, the practical joke.

He liked the Leedses. He was sorry that he had been to the morgue. He thought the madman who visited them might have liked them too. But the madman would like them better the way they were now.

He led them around the base of a great fallen tree whose exposed roots resembled more than anything else a huge broom - a broom that would have fired the imagination of Rachel the Dragon toward heroic, legendary feats of sweeping.

Hell's bells, irony blows.

Help yourself with the state! It's on democracy!

He never quarreled with his wife, but he never talked to her;--he never had time to talk, he was so taken up with speaking.

Her beauty was a weapon. A loaded gun, with the barrel pointed at her own head.

Here was the world-famous novelist with her penchant for detail; yet, in her observations of a prostitute with a customer, she had failed to come away with the most important detail of all. She could never identify the murderer; she could barely describe him. She'd made a point of not looking at him!

Her logic was a combination of half-truths and clichés, her worldview a compound of misconceptions deriving from a history of our nation as written from the perspective of a subway tunnel.

He's crazy," Bruno said, twirling a finger in circles around the side of his head and whistling to indicate just how crazy he thought he was. "He went up to a cat on the street the other day and invited her over for afternoon tea." "What did the cat say?" asked Gretel, who was making a sandwich in the corner of the kitchen. "Nothing." explained Bruno. "It was a cat.

He smelled the smells of commerce and listened to the cursing of the sailors, both of which he admired: the former, as it reeked of wealth, and the latter because it combined his two other chief preoccupations, these being theology and anatomy.

He sure put things into words good.

He was shivering like a Wicklow sheepdog in a snowy yard, though the weather was officially 'clement'. The first layer of clothing was his jacket, the second his shirt, the third his long-johns, the fourth his share of lice, the fifth his share of fear.

He was notorious for cutting short extraneous verbiage from over-loquacious barristers".

He was mad, and for that, we have reason to be glad. A truly savage irony, on which it is discomforting to dwell.

He won’t stop the war until you give him the peace prize.

He who laughs at another person's affliction will also be laughed at when afflicted" RjS

He wears his cockiness like an ironic T-shirt, but it fits him better.

Hey, GreenHollyWood the mistake was mine that I added you as a friend... I thought that you are my friend... but your irony doesn't end.

How can you ask me to keep a secret... when you can't keep it yourself?

His face had been twisted into an expression of every agony he had imagined for his friend.

how can it be that the modern human mind is capable of precise logical analysis, and yet simultaneously permits us to accept religious beliefs that should crumble beneath even the slightest rational scrutiny?

His boat sank. They were all on his side.

How bold we are. We shy from a flame that licks the tip of our finger for a fraction of a second, and from which we are allowed the luxury of escape. But most of humankind flaunt their disobedience in the face of an eternal fire that engulfs all, and from which there is no escape. Ever.

How many times do I have to tell you? We are not gangsters!

I always think it's funny when Indians celebrate Thanksgiving. I mean, sure, the Indians and Pilgrims were best friends during the first Thanksgiving, but a few years later, the Pilgrims were shooting Indians. So I'm never quite sure why we eat turkey like everybody else.

How unfortunate, considering I have decided to loathe him for eternity

Human nature is pretty shabby stuff, as you may know from introspection.

How strange it was to think that he, who such a short time ago dared not believe in the happiness of her loving him, now felt unhappy because she loved him too much!

I actually feel quite self-indulgent at the moment, telling you all about me, me, me. (...) On the other hand, you're a human -you should understand self obsession.

I came, I saw, I bought!

I am sure that those who are addicted to sending Christmas Round Robins could give it up if they tried; they might find it difficult at first, but it would be worth the effort in the end.

I BELIEVE EVERYONE IS SPECIAL . . . BUT SOME PEOPLE THINK . . . . IT'S JUST ANOTHER WAY OF SAYING NO-ONE IS

I cannot say much for this Monarch's Sense--Nor would I if I could, for he was a Lancastrian. I suppose you know all about the Wars between him and the Duke of York who was on the right side; if you do not, you had better read some other History, for I shall not be very difuse in this, meaning by it only to vent my spleen against, and show my Hatred to all those people whose parties or principles do not suit with mine, and not to give information.

I can’t help but think that if she was going to kill herself, she might as well have done it earlier. Perhaps when I was a toddler. Or better yet, an infant. It certainly would have made my life easier. I asked my uncle Hugh (who is not really my uncle, but he is married to the stepsister of my current mother’s brother’s wife and he lives quite closeand he’s a vicar) if I would be going to hell for such a thought. He said no, that frankly, it made a lot of sense to him. I do think I prefer his parish to my own.

I concede that in the past we imprisoned, tortured, burned and massacred hundreds of thousands of people in the name of the gentle Jesus and His love. Today we've simply changed the words. We do it in the name of peace, progress and liberty.

Ich war ein wenig verstört über unsere offensichtlichen Gemeinsamkeiten, hatte ich doch gemeint, Lichtjahre von ihm entfernt zu sein.

I come by my alarmism honestly. I have learned this custom over the years as I have settled into being a true New Yorker. This is how we welcome foreigners to our shores. Because we are so often frightened by living here, we are annoyed and offended when visitors fail to show the proper signs of terror. So we try to scare the living daylights out of them.

I didn't think that Herefordshire Social Services would be best pleased about me dumping a poorly socialised pre-teen with mind control powers on them.

I didn't choose this path on my own, what other choice do I have? I would title it ignorance to the highest degree to do something I'm meant to do & do nothing at all. It's the abuse of it all, my souls willing to ride but my flesh is destined to fall, Niagara, but I will for the effects of viagra; stand erect against the evil as if it's the rise of the first fall.

I didn't know who to believe but one thing I do know: when a man is living many claim relationships that are hardly so and after he dies, well, then it's everybody's party.