Best 3653 quotes in «humorous quotes» category

I still believe this Life is a good joke. And if you treat it that way, you will never stop laughing.

I suspected his middle name was "Yum".

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

It becomes evident that Olmo hasn't really been spotting his underwear, at least not with blood. Azzy has messed with his gullibility. Dad shoots Azzy a we'll-talk-about-this-later look. "Olmo, diarrhea and periods are very different things." Azzy smiles maliciously. "Diarrhea is hereditary; it runs in your jeans.

It commenced raining one day and did not stop for two months. We went through ever different kind of rain they is, cep'n maybe sleet or hail. It was little tiny stinging rain sometimes, an big ole fat rain at others. It came sidewise an straight down an sometimes even seem to stand up from the ground. Nevertheless, we was expected to do our shit, which was mainly walking upland down the hills an stuff looking for gooks.

It goes without saying that even those of us who are going to hell will get eternal life—if that territory really exists outside religious books and the minds of believers, that is. Having said that, given the choice, instead of being grilled until hell freezes over, the average sane human being would, needless to say, rather spend forever idling in an extremely fertile garden, next to a lamb or a chicken or a parrot, which they do not secretly want to eat, and a lion or a tiger or a crocodile, which does not secretly want to eat them.

It felt like an eternity before he gingerly lifted himself from the table and staggered backwards. Glass shards protruded from chest to groin. The guy looked like a bloody porcupine. A cute, tall bloody porcupine. I’m tall too. Five foot ten. But he had at least four inches on me, even with my thick-heeled boots. “What’s your name?” he slurred. While visions of reckless homicide charges danced in my head, I contemplated using an alias. Finally, I said my real name, “Sam.” “Nice to meet you, Sammers. I’m Jake,” he said.

It had better be. It doesn't do much when it's soft.

The duke stopped beside Maddy’s chair. He turned to Mr. Pember and in the sort of tone that could command regiments, uttered. “Cat.

I think I’m coming up on the ess curve, so I’m going to hang up and concentrate on driving. In the snow. Which wasn’t supposed to happen until tomorrow afternoon. Gee, Kels, I didn’t know you believed in the weatherman. Do you still believe in Santa and the Tooth Fairy, too? How about the Easter Bunny? All right. Point taken.

...I think I saw something orange pass beneath a streetlight. That means she turned the corner on Pecan Street. Wait right here, and I’ll get my car.” Stella grabbed Mona’s arm. “There’s no time. Follow me and keep your mouth shut.” Instead of going to the street, Stella crept through a yard. “This is crazy, I can’t see a thing. Stella, we could break a leg.” “I told you to be quiet. I know these yards as well as I know my own. Stay behind me.” She led Mona behind a large azalea bush close to the sidewalk. They hid there as Rusty approached, and she was almost on top of them when Mona sneezed. Rusty stopped, put her hands on her hips, and said, “I know you’re in there.” Neither Stella nor Mona made a peep. “I think I understand why you feel the need to watch me. I’m new around here, so let me introduce myself. My name is Rusty Martinez. I’m a businesswoman, and I have no intention of breaking into anyone’s home. I’m simply out for exercise, so you have nothing to worry about.” “Okay, well, you have a nice night,” Mona said cheerily. Rusty recoiled at the response. “Um…you too,” she said quickly and jogged away. Stella groaned. “Your mother obviously didn’t teach you how to properly conduct a mission, did she?” “If you mean how to hide in a bush, then no.

I think my underwear is curling off me like burning paper.

I think that the habit of gloomy poetry is very funny. It’s like a special competition in losing.

I think she’s too ignorant to be a witch.

I think the narcolepsy is adorable. Someday you'll be happy for these little lulls. Who the fuck wants a man to be awake all the time?

I threw my hand over my mouth and blurted out the first best excuse I could come up with, “Morning breath!

It is 32c today, and the only thing keeping me from hanging myself is the small sense of relief I glean from attaching my body to the vents of my delicious cooling piece. It is a stunning unit, exquisite in all its forms, exceptional in its application, and effective in all its functions. I would marry it, if only I knew it would not die on me sometime within the next five years. Appliances, like obedient children or silent extroverts, cannot last forever, and while my unbidden affection kept my other air conditioner alive for the better part of ten years, not all inanimate objects can be fueled by my love.

It is a curious fact that small boys are more terrified of their babysitters than small girls are. In part, this is because small girls and babysitters, who are usually slightly larger girls, belong to the same species, and therefore understand each other. Small boys, on the other hand, do not understand girls, and therefore being looked after by one is a little like a hamster being looked after by a shark. If you are a small boy, it may be some consolation to you to know that even large boys do not understand girls, and girls, by and large, do not understand boys. This makes adult life very interesting.

It is a mistake," Labruyère tells us, "to be in love without an ample fortune.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife." ~ Jane Austin. Arguably one of the best opening lines in literary history (I said ARGUABLY doesn't mean I want to argue). However, to make it a modern retelling it would have to read: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man or women in possession of a good fortune, just treading water or so broke it aint no joke, must be in want of a life partner.

It is a tedious cliché (and, unlike many clichés, it isn't even true) that science concerns itself with how questions, but only theology is equipped to answer why questions. What on Earth is a why question? Not every English sentence beginning with the word 'why' is a legitimate question. Why are unicorns hollow? Some questions simply do not deserve an answer. What is the colour of abstraction? What is the smell of hope? The fact that a question can be phrased in a grammatically correct English sentence doesn't make it meaningful, or entitle it to our serious attention. Nor, even if the question is a real one, does the fact that science cannot answer it imply that religion can.

It is man who forsake is Maker.

It is easier to laugh than cry.

It is hard to find a butterfly in the city environment.

It is still cheating, even if nobody comes.

It is not true that the English invented cricket as a way of making all other human endeavors look interesting and lively; that was merely an unintended side effect.

It's a hat," said Jess. Manx stretched. "Yes." "A hat with - just to be clear - a lizard on it. A real, dead lizard." "An iguana, yea. It's been stuffed." "I can see that. Any idiot can see that, but it doesn;t address the issue." "The issue being?" "Manx, you're wearing a goddamn reptile! On your head! With pride! It's like you're the lovechild of Carmen Miranda and a taxidermist!

It is usually unbearably painful to read a book by an author who knows way less than you do, unless the book is a novel.

I told Sarah not to bring up the blanc-mange again for breakfast. It seems to have been placed on our table at every meal since Wednesday… In spite of my instructions, that blanc-mange was brought up again for supper. To make matters worse, there had been an attempt to disguise it, by placing it in a glass dish with jam round it...I told Carrie, when we were alone, if that blanc-mange were placed on the table again I should walk out of the house.

I tried to blow a yellow jacket out and now it's wearing a bow tie in its mouth.

Its all about perception in life, For some One minus One = One & for some its Zero.That's the only difference.

It's a terrible thing to be nearly sixteen and the wrong species.

It’s a terrible person who listens to what we say rather than what we mean

It’s a vampire cabal and I’m feeling like the odd human out…or lunch.

It's better to keep your mouth shut and appear stupid than open it and remove all doubt

It's Coraline, not Caroline. Coraline.' said Coraline.

It's easy to have high morals when you'd be safe naked in the middle of San Quentin Prison.

It's easy to remember, because dating rhymes with mating, and they're almost the same [...] So your mom thinks we're ma-- Uh, dating?

It looks like two alpacas fucking, mostly," he said apologetically. "Of course, sometimes, the boy can't get his boy parts past the girl's furry ass, and he needs a little help, so then it looks like two alpacas fucking while their handler's giving the one on top a handjob.

It paid to be cultured, just as long as you didn't start growing bacteria.

It saddened me that sometimes shopping was far more perilous than dealing with zombies and vampires.

It's a good thing, right, when an author gets turned on by the dirty scenes they write?!

It’s all about “Priorities” There's No Such Thing as "Busy

It's all right, darling. I'll finish the financial report on my own. I can think clearly before sex and stay awake afterwards. That's one of the nice things about being a woman.

It’s alright, Kitten,” Bones said. “He won’t shoot.” Tate lowered his gun, even as the sudden dizziness from blood-loss made me sway. Bones took my gun and casually handed it to Juan, who gapped at him in amazement. “You called her Kitten? And she let you? She put me in a coma for three days when I called her that. My balls never recovered from her smashing them into my spine.” “And well she should have,” Bones agreed. “She’s mine. Kitten, and no one else’s.

It says adult prison on the gates, not Hogwarts. Now, get in and say hi to your new housmate.

Its decision to suck up an extra helping of toddler soup would cost it dearly.

It seems - and who so astonished as they? - that they had held back material facts; that they were guilty of both suppressio veri and suggestio falsi (well-known gods against whom they often offended); further, that they were malignant in their dispositions, untrustworthy in their characters, pernicious and revolutionary in their influences, abandoned to the devils of wilfulness, pride, and a most intolerable conceit. Ninthly, and lastly, they were to have a care and to be very careful.

It's funny how often we celebrate by poisoning ourselves

It’s human nature to view life from our own reality. This causes serious problems when a rescue mission is being led by the senile or insane.