Best 708 quotes in «sarcasm quotes» category

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

Everything's just fucking Disney with you.

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

Facts are much more malleable than prejudices.

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.

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

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?

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

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.

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

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

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 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 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.

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

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

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

He was love blind. His wife walked him through.

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.

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 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.

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.

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

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’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 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.

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. 'We spent one night together.' 'You had sex then?' 'No we crocheted a quilt.' I cocked my head to side and gave him my nastiest glare." Lorelei Preston to Agent Brody-The Wild Hunt

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

I believe sarcasm is the passive form of rudeness and should not be tolerated in the Body of Christ.

I bet she thought she was getting into a fight with a vanilla wafer on roller skates but little did she know she was getting into a fight with a spider sandwich.

I cannot speak well enough to be unintelligible.

I cannot believe you formed this plan," Clove said. "No one else would think of this but you." "That's true; I am very clever!" Ella wriggled next to Clove, peering. "That is the opposite of what I meant." Ella sighed. "Clove, please recognize the negative energy you are bringing into this space." "WE'RE IN A POTATO CART!" Ella shushed her. "I do everything for a reason. Just because you do not know that reason, does not make it silly." "Sometimes the reason is that you make bad choices," Clove muttered.

I couldn’t very well make a special delivery to the door of the constabulary now could I? And he’d have made the perfect scapegoat. That aura of misery he wraps himself in. So Byronesque. He’s too immersed in his own guilt to ever suspect it in another.

I’d heard street food was a big thing here in Mexico but I didn’t think it meant the creatures that lived on the street.

I didn’t intend it to come out sarcastically, but I guess that’s just where my tone of voice automatically goes these days.

I discovered that politics is not entirely about agendas and manifestos of some old, sullen creep promising a better future of the country as a whole. Politics is being played everywhere and it starts from the very bedroom that you consider your safe haven.

I do not like the terms. I don’t get any offspring, any beloved, I cannot ask something that is not in your power and I do not get to have your soul?” Her lips twisted in a sarcastic smile, and I could tell I had managed to insult her. “Although I suppose that’s some other entity’s priority and not mine. But that aside, what’s left for me?

I don't avoid Starbucks because it's Satanic, I avoid Starbucks because they over-roast their beans. Satanic is just a bonus.

I don’t believe this. This is utter shit!” I yelled. “Does it look like I’m lying?” Steven asked. I rolled my eyes at his incredibly stupid question, “I don’t know. Let me look at you with my x-ray vision to see through this stupid blindfold and I’ll get back to you.

I don't profess any religion; I don't think it’s possible that there is a God; I have the greatest difficulty in understanding what is meant by the words ‘spiritual’ or ‘spirituality.' [Interview, The New Yorker, Dec. 26, 2005]