Best 177 quotes in «insults quotes» category

I kicked a rib cage off my foot and swaggered around the tree as if I owned the place. “Hey there!” Startled, Nidhogg stopped in mid-mutter. He stared at me, his huge yellow eyes blinking in confusion. Then, nostrils flaring dangerously, he let out a bellow that doubled as an impressive display of razor-sharp fangs. My heart faltered, but I swallowed my fear and pressed on. “Is that supposed to intimidate me?” I made a big show of rolling my eyes. “I’ve heard louder roars from Thor’s butt.” Nidhogg flinched as if I’d whacked him on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper. “That wasn’t very nice.” He sounded so hurt I almost felt sorry for him. Instead, I snorted with derision. “Buddy, I insult everyone.” I waved my daggers. “See these? They’re sharp, but not as sharp as my tongue.” Or your fangs, I added to myself as the dragon loomed in closer to inspect my blades. “Wow. Those are pointy.” Nidhogg looked genuinely impressed. “Are your insults really sharper than that?” “Mister, that question is so dumb it makes me think your brain is like Odin’s left eye socket—completely empty.” Nidhogg winced. “Wow. That really, really hurt. But you’re right, of course.” He tapped a daggerlike claw against his skull. “My brain is empty. Of insults, anyway.” That was my opening. I sheathed my daggers and cocked my head to one side as if considering something. “You know, I have some powerful one-liners that never fail to infuriate. I’d be willing to share a few, but what’s in it for me?” Nidhogg scratched his belly. “Well, for starters, I won’t eat you,” he offered. “Hmm. Tell you what. Let me climb up Yggdrasil when we’re done, and you’ve got a deal.” Nidhogg stuck out a claw. I thought he was going to slice me to ribbons, but then I realized he wanted to shake on it. I did so, very carefully. “Okay,” I said.

I look like a hooker.” “A slut,” I corrected. “Hookers have pastier complexions.” “The voice of experience, I’m sure.

Is it me you're describing, or yourself?

In regards to maan (to seek importance from others), a man will become impudent if he keeps getting insulted up to a point. If he gets maan (importance from others) to a certain level, he grows stronger. And if he gets too much maan [praise], then his desire for it will come to end.

Insults are the most common provocation for anger because, whether we think about this or not, they generate social imbalances.

I owe you a small thanks, for you have made me far more sure of my own position by letting me see the case for free choice put forward with all the energy of so distinguished and powerful a mind, but with no other effect than to make things worse than before.

It is very painful to argue with an incredibly ignorant person. Not because they are stupid, but because the stupid are unbelievably arrogant and insulting. Their constant intention to manipulate a conversation in order to nullify their responsibility transforms any conversation into a game of theirs to bring another person down rather than using logic, and much less allow an agreement.

It makes no difference what you wear, really. I'll put you in a dark grey. I believe I have some left over from a funeral." says the dressmaker.

Its crazy when people of high moral standards, feel its okay for an intimate friend to insult them in a jovial way, forgeting that even casual friends can do just the same in a jovial way.

It's funny how, when you really want to say something bitchy and cutting to someone who's been bitchy to you, you can't think of anything till afterwards. When there's no real call for it, you come suddenly out with a piece of 9-carat bitchery that shakes even you.

It’s like reading a bad newspaper or a bad piece in a magazine." (on Tom Wolfe)

It was expected, however, that [Erasmus] should make some reply and give some definition. But instead, by availing himself of a rhetorical transition, he drags us who knew nothing of rhetoric away with him, as if the matter at issue here were of no moment, but simply a lot of quibbling, and dashes bravely out of the crowded court, crowned with ivy and laurel.

Listen to a conversation of judgment. How easy it is, and how wonderful these two people feel, with each word, their life feels just a little bit better. How sad they walk away with no conscience instead joy.

Look at you quivering like a bag of fresh tofu!

Mendacity and vulgarity can only permanently affect those who resort to their use. (Ch 17)

Mr. Kipling stands for everything in this cankered world which I would wish were otherwise.

Mr. Blatchford attacks Christianity because he is mad on one Christian virtue: the merely mystical and almost irrational virtue of charity. He has a strange idea that he will make it easier to forgive sins by saying that there are no sins to forgive. Mr. Blatchford is not only an early Christian, he is the only early Christian who really ought to have been eaten by lions.

Mutli-tools are like insults, girls - you should always have one on hand.

Natalya: "It was our favorite sister of NASA who guilt me into putting my tits on line to rescuing you helpless ornaments.

Not knowing humiliation, you are ignorant of what it is to arrive at the last stage of yourself.

Peter to Austin: "Hard-ons don't make you think less. They make you think stupid. Which makes me think you must have one 24/7.

Pride has often been his best friend. It has connected him nearer with virtue than any other feeling.

Protect your good image from the eyes of negative viewers, who may look at your good appearance with an ugly fiendish eye, and ruin your positive qualities with their chemical infested tongues. If the words from the mouth of an abusive man makes you angry, quit the whole arena and you'll discover he had got his mouth shut.

[Rome], who was formerly the gate of heaven, is now a sort of open mouth of hell.

Schellenberg had the habit of calling people he didn't like whores, and this term suited him well - and when I think about it, it's true that the insults people prefer, the ones that come most spontaneously to their lips, often in the end reveal their own hidden faults, since they naturally hate what they most resemble.

See!” Dad yelled. “Boys don’t stay with whores, Bianca. They leave them. And I’m not going to let you turn into a whore. Not my daughter. This is for your own good.” I looked up as he reached a hand down to grab my arm. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting to feel his fingers clamp around my forearm. But they never did. I heard a loud thud, and Dad grunted in pain. My eyes flew open. Wesley moved away from Dad, who was massaging his jaw with a shocked look on his face. “Why you little shithead!” “Are you all right?” Wesley asked, kneeling in front of me. “Did you just punch my dad?” I couldn’t help but wonder if I was delirious. Had all of this really just happened? Totally bizarre. “Yes,” Wesley admitted. “How dare you touch me!” Dad screamed, but he was having trouble balancing enough to approach us again. “How dare you fuck my daughter, then hit me, you son of a bitch!” I’d never heard my father swear like that before. “Come on,” Wesley said, helping me to my feet. “Let’s get out of here. You’re coming with me.” He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close against his warm body, and ushered me out the open door.

Shall I show him in or tell him to go find a short and unpleasant route to hell?

She looks like her face caught fire and they beat it out with a rake

She may be crazy but at least she isn't you.

Insults weren't a problem for him because they were typically made out of fear.

It is how decent, civilized people behave, Captain Ransom. Though I suppose that to someone of your level of moral fortitude, it must seem remarkable.

I was cyber-bullied before all those Myspace-related suicides, so my school principal wasn't really impressed when my mom complained about what was happening to me on my Xanga blog and on AIM chat. “Get your life sorted out, you fucking scitzo [sic] dyke tranny bitch,” one comment might say. Another comment would say something like, “I know she's reading this, she's so pathetic.” And, perhaps most frightening of all: “I'm going to fuck you up until your mother bleeds.

I will say something still easier. Take a single flea or louse-since you tempt and mock our God with this talk about curing a lame horse-and if, after combining all the powers and concentrating all the efforts both of your good and all your supporters, you succeed in killing it in the name of free choice, you shall be victorious, your case shall be established, and we too will come at once and worship that god of yours, that wonderful killer of the louse.

Majority of people prefer a good name to a bad name, but to me, anyone can call me anything, as long as it is not written on my face.

Many writers make the mistake of making their readers appear like Lazarus, without any iota of care, throwing down books to readers to crunch as if they are dogs.

Mousedung!

No more Keats, I entreat: flay him alive; if some of you don’t I must skin him myself: there is no bearing the drivelling idiotism of the Mankin.

Normal is the cruellest of all insults

Now I know from this very word and deed of yours what free choice is and is capable of, namely, madness.

Now she sat in front of him, nearly submerged under layers of thick sweaters and blankets. She looked like a laundry hamper without a head.

Oh!" he answered smiling, "Mr. Murray! I am glad to see you. I have been with several of your relations; the good lady your mother was of great use to us at Perth.

Oh, he was quite a scholar, Mr. Taxovich.

Oh, shut up your little pussymouth, you mongoloid.

One cannot have the same love for getting insulted (apmaan) as he does for getting importance (maan), can he? He cannot love loss as much as he loves profit, can he?

One more thing when they call you a bitch, say thank you. say thank you, very much.

One will become shameless if he does not fear insults in the worldly life. And in nischay [determination in the spiritual life] if one does not fear being insulted, he becomes independent.

On matters where it is difficult or impossible to pin the blame for their policies' failures on conservatives, the fallback position has been to hurl a slur at anyone pointing out the obvious failure....The left's never-ending use of these worn-out attacks on the character and motivations of those who disagree with them has caused them to lose their effect....At the ground level, since liberals have lost the ability to win any and every political discussion by hurling a slur, they are simply resorting to the next level in political interaction: violence and physical intimidation.

Shut your cake hole, you revolting young blot.

[S]ince you are angry at me without reason, you attack me harshly with, "Oh outrageous presumption! Oh excessively foolish pride! Oh opinion uttered too quickly and thoughtlessly by the mouth of a woman! A woman who condemns a man of high understanding and dedicated study, a man who, by great labour and mature deliberation, has made the very noble book of the Rose, which surpasses all others that were ever written in French. When you have read this book a hundred times, provided you have understood the greater part of it, you will discover that you could never have put your time and intellect to better use!" My answer: Oh man deceived by willful opinion! I could assuredly answer but I prefer not to do it with insult, although, groundlessly, you yourself slander me with ugly accusations. Oh darkened understanding! Oh perverted knowledge ... A simple little housewife sustained by the doctrine of Holy Church could criticise your error!

Sirius had the relaxed, confident demeanor Seatticans were known for...and an overall likable disposition. If you weren't being forced to marry him, that is.