Best 708 quotes in «sarcasm quotes» category

Don’t make me climb across this desk and slap you, because I will.

Don't read it. Just shred and burn, or your eyes will melt.

Don't tell me," Jace said, "Simon's turned himself into an ocelot and you want me to do something about it before Isabelle makes him into a stole. Well, you'll have have to wait till tomorrow. I'm out of commission." He pointed at himself - he was wearing blue pajamas with a hole in the sleeve. "Look. Jammies." "Jace," Clary said, "this is important." "Don't tell me," he said. "You've got a drawing emergency. You need a nude model. Well, I'm not in the mood. You could always ask Hodge," he said as an afterthought. "I hear he'll do anything for a -" "JACE!" she interrupted him, her voice rising to a scream. "JUST SHUT UP FOR A SECOND AND LISTEN, WILL YOU?

Don't waste yer' breath kid. Explainin' anything to that one? It's like tryin' ta' slap the dumb off a retard... -George Foster

Don’t worry, hero. If the vamp shows up, I’m here to protect you.” “Great, I can hide behind your massive ego.

Do…you…have…a…hard…time…finding…Steve’s dick?” she enunciated, enjoying Mary’s extreme discomfort. “He’s big as a fuckin’ house so I imagine it might be a bit of a problem.” The New Jersey accent that was still there after more than fifteen years in the south, resurfaced in her aggravation.

Dragons lick my boots, I don't want to bloody be he—

Dr. Cox: Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present, Man Not Caring. [points to self]

..each ministry has an allocation of money to spend on projects agreed to by the government. Every Secretary of State is acutely aware that his tenure of office maybe very short, so he picks out a major contract for himself from the many available. It's the one way to ensure a pension for life if the government is changed overnight or the minister simply loses his job.

Eisenhower and Patton, old friends and figures crucial to the Allies' upcoming success, conferred over yet another gaffe on Patton's part that could have cost him his command. Patton's head is on Ike's shoulder in gratitude, but the scene is rescued from being completely maudlin by Eisenhower's internal question as to whether Patton wears his ever-present helmet to bed.

EUrotic, adj. 1. A psychological condition characterized by episodes of complete divorcement from reality; 2. A strong sexual attraction to political power.

Eragon went to see the dragon for the first time since it had spoken to him. He approached apprehensively, aware now that it was an equal. "Eragon." "Is that all you can say?" he snapped. "Yes." His eyes widened at the unexpected reply, and he sat down roughly. Now it has a sense of humor. What next?

Everything's just fucking Disney with you.

Even better. We're going to be murdered in our beds by infidels.

Everyone has bad days...'my Dear MIDDLE FINGER, Thanks for sticking up for me!

Excuse me if I feel skeptical,' I said. 'Coach's foot fell off. How exactly do you propose to cure that? Superglue?

For appearances. Now there's a lovely thing to die for.

Fine, it’s decided.” Vain resumed his stride. “I’ll do all the killing, and you do all the stuff that an Avun-Riah does. Whatever the hell that is.

Facts are much more malleable than prejudices.

Fine. Okay. I killed her. But I didn’t mean to. And I didn’t kill her, kill her.” “Oh, I see. As long as you didn’t kill her, kill her, then that’s okay.

Gankis lifted an arm to point at the distant shale cliffs. "And in the face of it there were thousands of little holes, little what-you-call-'ems..." "Alcoves," Kennit supplied in an almost dreamy voice. "I call them alcoves, Gankis. As would you, if you could speak your own mother tongue.

For the whole earth is the tomb of famous men; not only are they commemorated by columns and inscriptions in their own country, but in foreign lands there dwells also an unwritten memorial of them, graven not on stone but in the hearts of men. Make them your examples, and, esteeming courage to be freedom and freedom to be happiness, do not weigh too nicely the perils of war." [Funeral Oration of Pericles]

Fuck, how ironic. First Sparkles, now me. If that fucking vampire appears, I will shoot myself.

Get the point?" I asked, offering the boys a triumphant smile. Gabriel, Zeb, and Dick stared at me, aghast. "What? Sarcastic postkill comeback. Isn't that what you're supposed to do in situations like this? Too harsh?

Go make love to a tube sock.

Goody. That must be why they were looking for a 22-caliber anything when they came by with their search warrant this morning.' 'They didn't!' 'They did.' 'When?' 'Oddly enough, right before I upped my meds.

Got anything to eat?" I asked. "You know where the gas station is," said my incredibly nurturing and maternal mother.

Grown tall, like a ruddy weed, on his food.

Great. Relationship advice from one of America's most wanted.

Having your own church doesn't make you a good guy. It only makes you tax-exempt.

He'd been given an assignment to write about teen beauty pageants [...], which he'd accepted because he enjoyed blood sports as much as the next person.

He has got no good red blood in his body," said Sir James. "No. Somebody put a drop under a magnifying glass, and it was all semicolons and parentheses," said Mrs. Cadwallader.

Hello, Mrs. Tran...I have David's homework. And if you ever want to see it again, you'll pay me the two million dollars I asked for.

Hey,” he said. “Hi.” Oh, damn. It was awkward. “What’re you doing?” “Shearing a sheep. It’s cold outside, and I need a new hat.” He paused. “You’re joking, right?” “Yes, Marshall.” I gnawed on my fingers some more and sunk back in my chair.

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

Here! Now, you have a weapon. Next time, I’ll expect you to help us.

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.

His chief form of entertainment was reading. The last moments he was in a cabin were usually spent scanning bookshelves and nightstands. The life inside a book always felt welcoming to Knight. It pressed no demands on him, while the world of actual human interactions was so complex. Conversations between people can move like tennis games, swift and unpredictable. There are constant subtle visual and verbal cues, there's innuendo, sarcasm, body language, tone. Everyone occasionally fumbles an encounter, a victim of social clumsiness. It's part of being human. To Knight, it all felt impossible. His engagement with the written word might have been the closest he could come to genuine human encounters. The stretch of days between thieving raids allowed him to tumble into the pages, and if he felt transported he could float in bookworld, undisturbed, for as long as he pleased.

He paused at the bedroom door, shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and walked right out like it was any other morning, and he and Jack would be having breakfast as if they hadn't had sex the night before. "Morning," he said, casting a quick glance over his shoulder. "Mmm," D grunted. "You done in the bathroom?" D blinked. No, I jus' took a little breather in the middle a my mornin' beauty ritual ta come out here 'n' chat with ya. A course I'm done.

He was love blind. His wife walked him through.

How careless of me!" By which she meant that she had deduced that he had found [them] in his pocket and pitied him for needing to be forever in the right.

How 'bout a shot of truth in that denial cocktail.

How Gloomy it is, to pause, to cease and to rust unburn, to get used and be indistinct. Like to live is to breathe.

How's Alison getting on?' Conway snorted. 'Tucked up in the sick room like she's dying in some season finale. Little fadey voice on her and all. She's having a great old time.

How long have you been with Raphael?” “You ask a lot of questions for a dead woman.” “What can I say? I prefer to die well-informed.

How’s your first week so far?” Isabele asks. “Well, let me see,” I begin. “Chloe says my penmanship is shit, and I was only thirty minutes early this morning, which apparently means I’m late, but on the bright side, she thinks her non-fat, half-sweet, no-whip soy latte didn’t taste right and then she told me she’s not paying for it. Other than that, work is just fine.

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

I admire all my three sons-in-law highly. Wickham, perhaps is my favourite; but I think I shall like your husband quite as well as Jane's.

-I am alergic to these flowers. -I know.

I am so tired of this gothic crap,” I muttered. “Just once, I want to meet the villain in a cheerful, brightly lit room. Possibly one with kittens.