Best 708 quotes in «sarcasm quotes» category

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    Clearly, she hadn’t heard of the two words ‘social’ and ‘life’.

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    Congress should make it so that all sex scenes in all films should be provided with a screaming baby sound track. That should help take away all the fun and may show a major decrease in unwanted pregnancies without having to provide birth control to anyone.

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    Cordelia glared at me. 'I expect if someone strapped you to table an swung an axe over your naked quivering flesh like The Pit and the Pendulum, you'd be correcting his grammar'.

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    Costin regained his serious tone but his eyes softened. "I won't force you into anything Sally. I know this is all different to you. I've known all my life that I had one perfect mate out there for me. And when I look at you, I'm in awe of what I've been given." Sally blushed as he paused. "I won't leave you unprotected, and allowing other males around you is something that neither I, nor my wolf, will be able to handle. Besides," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "how could you not want to be around all this?" Sally let out a snort. "You've been around Jen way too much." "I don't know, she's quite educational." "Yeah, I don’t think I really want you to be educated by her.

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    Dacă tai în două un om prost, n-o să găsești sânge, ca la noi. O să găsești păreri. Are păreri despre orice, în special despre lucrurile de care n-are habar. Cu cât nu înțelege ceva, cu atât părerea lui va fi mai înverșunată. Și cu părerile astea trebuie să facă ceva, trebuie să le arate lumii. A căzut un camion într-o prăpastie? Păi, hai, ce faci, ce mai pierzi vremea? Spune cu cine ții: cu camionul sau cu prăpastia?

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    come humans, fulfill your evolutionary purpose adn build your hound a fire." Oberon

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    Dearest love, let me count the ways. Dismemberment, garroted, poisoned, drowned, named. I read that as soon as a species is named it begins its travels up the endangered list. Discovery meaning death.

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    Dear Producers, Something is radiating deep within me and it must be transmitted or I will implode and the world will suffer a great loss, unawares. Epic are the proportions of my soul, yet without a scope who cares am I? This is why I must but must be one of the inhabitants of MTV's "Real World." Only there, burning brightly into a million dazzled eyes, will my as yet uncontoured self assume the beauteous forms that are not just its own, but an entire market niche's, due. I am a Kirk Cameron-Kurt Cobain figure, roguishly quirky, dandified but down to earth, kooky but comprehensible; denizen of the growing penumbra between alternative and mainstream culture; angsty prophet of the already bygone apocalypse, yet upbeat, stylish and sexy! Oscar Wilde wrote, "Good artists exist in what they make, and consequently are perfectly uninteresting in what they are. A great poet, a really great poet, is the most unpoetical of all creatures. But inferior poets are absolutely fascinating... [they] live the poetry [they] cannot write." As with Dorian Gray, life is my art! Oh MTV, take me, make me, wake me from my formless slumbers and place me in the dreamy Real World of target marketing.

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    Collectivism is the best solution for a society in harmony. It will be a success when you find a living being, plant or microorganism that it can be applied to.

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    Darius stood and grunted as his thigh reminded him it had an arrow-shaped hole in it.

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    Dear friend…' The Witcher swore quietly, looking at the sharp, angular, even runes drawn with energetic sweeps of the pen, faultlessly reflecting the author’s mood. He felt once again the desire to try to bite his own backside in fury. When he was writing to the sorceress a month ago he had spent two nights in a row contemplating how best to begin. Finally, he had decided on “Dear friend.” Now he had his just deserts. 'Dear friend, your unexpected letter – which I received not quite three years after we last saw each other – has given me much joy. My joy is all the greater as various rumours have been circulating about your sudden and violent death. It is a good thing that you have decided to disclaim them by writing to me; it is a good thing, too, that you are doing so so soon. From your letter it appears that you have lived a peaceful, wonderfully boring life, devoid of all sensation. These days such a life is a real privilege, dear friend, and I am happy that you have managed to achieve it. I was touched by the sudden concern which you deigned to show as to my health, dear friend. I hasten with the news that, yes, I now feel well; the period of indisposition is behind me, I have dealt with the difficulties, the description of which I shall not bore you with. It worries and troubles me very much that the unexpected present you received from Fate brings you worries. Your supposition that this requires professional help is absolutely correct. Although your description of the difficulty – quite understandably – is enigmatic, I am sure I know the Source of the problem. And I agree with your opinion that the help of yet another magician is absolutely necessary. I feel honoured to be the second to whom you turn. What have I done to deserve to be so high on your list? Rest assured, my dear friend; and if you had the intention of supplicating the help of additional magicians, abandon it because there is no need. I leave without delay, and go to the place which you indicated in an oblique yet, to me, understandable way. It goes without saying that I leave in absolute secrecy and with great caution. I will surmise the nature of the trouble on the spot and will do all that is in my power to calm the gushing source. I shall try, in so doing, not to appear any worse than other ladies to whom you have turned, are turning or usually turn with your supplications. I am, after all, your dear friend. Your valuable friendship is too important to me to disappoint you, dear friend. Should you, in the next few years, wish to write to me, do not hesitate for a moment. Your letters invariably give me boundless pleasure. Your friend Yennefer' The letter smelled of lilac and gooseberries. Geralt cursed.

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    Did you call me here just to deliver this monologue? Did I need to be here?

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

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

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    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?

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

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    Democracy is great if you have enough friends.

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    Doesn't this place give you the creeps? You could perhaps do something with some floral wallpaper and a fire-bomb.

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    Don't be ridiculous. Brussels sprouts are awful. Jail is just jail.

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    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.

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

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    ..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.

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    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.

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

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    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?

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

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

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

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    Everything's just fucking Disney with you.

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

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

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    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.

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    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.

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

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    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]

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    Facts are much more malleable than prejudices.

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    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?

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    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.

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    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.

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

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    Go make love to a tube sock.

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

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

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

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    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.

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    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.

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    He was love blind. His wife walked him through.

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    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.

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    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.

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