Best 177 quotes in «insults quotes» category

He was a bad, bad bastard. He abused the privilege of being a cunt, as my old Da would say.’ I smiled, picturing the cozy fireside scene of young son on father’s knee being inducted into the world of abusive epithets.

He was a middle-aged child that had never shed its baby fat, though some gifted tailor had almost succeeded in camouflaging his plump and spankable bottom.

Hmmm,' the King said, making a face. 'I'm not sure this is what we bargained for, boy. We expected the girl to be attractive.' If I hadn't been so terrified, I would have been insulted.

How devastated I am to say that I will not be present at your petite soiree on June 10th. Unfortunately, the exceptionally weak drinks you ordinarily serve at these occasions are not sufficient to dull my senses to your boyfriend's futile efforts to grope me in the hallway.

How is it then that your theologians drivel like people in their second childhood.

How well I know you by your deeds and how invariably you succeed in living down to what one expects of you!

Hysterics are the hallmark of the production of genius. Insults are its common currency.

I am reading Proust for the first time. Very poor stuff. I think he was mentally defective.

I’d be offended if I could be offended,” he said. “Maybe I should start calling you a cow, since you have four limbs, are made of meat, and have rudimentary biological mental capacities.

I felt that they are mentally retarded people. There is a mental problem with our players. They don't know how to wear their clothes and how to talk in a civilized manner.

If one man gets excessive maan (importance from others) higher than a certain point, he will get tired of it, and if he gets excessive insults higher than a certain point, he gets agitated.

If someone calls you a failure it's more than likely they feel like one.

[I]f you seek in every way to minimise my firm beliefs by your anti-feminist attacks, please recall that a small dagger or knife point can pierce a great, bulging sack and that a small fly can attack a great lion and speedily put him to flight.

Good for you Woods. You're not as dumb as you look. Come to think of it, no one's as dumb as you look.

I don't know why I can't let the insults go, but I can't. I'm the product of every hurt that's ever been laid on me.

If a shred of integrity fell into your soul, it would die a very lonely death.

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

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

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.

Is it me you're describing, or yourself?

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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

Mousedung!

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.

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.