Best 139 quotes in «lol quotes» category

It’s so fucking pretty.”
 He opened one eye and squinted down at her. “Did you just call my dick ‘pretty’?”

I've always been a monster,' Scapegrace told her, 'but now, finally, my physical for reflects my inner darkness.' 'You smell terrible.' 'That's the smell of evil.' 'It's like rancid meat and bad eggs.' 'Evil," Scapegrace insisted.

I walk into the bathroom and even though I don’t need to pee, I do anyway. I’m wearing a skirt that Amber forced me to put on and it’s so easy to use the bathroom when you’re in a skirt, it’s stupid not to take advantage of the opportunity. Besides, I’m pretty sure I’m getting a cab home right after I punch Ben in the face, so I might as well use the restroom while I’m here. Why am I justifying the fact that I’m peeing?

I want to do it too!” said Gazzy, sitting very, very quietly, completely motionless. “Nope,” said Nudge, shaking her head. “You stand out like a fart in church.

Love is as we will it to be." ~ Amunhotep El Bey

Make your decision, one moment you need to follow somebody for awesome stuff. But other you just add him to your favourites authors and you check out everyday his progress, awesome.

Maruman does not loll.

My friends call me Wrath," says Raffe. "My enemies call me Please Have Mercy. What's your name, soldier boy?" Raffe's mocking tone brings a flush to my cheeks for no reason.

It’s when I’m around some people that my entire vocabulary goes on vacation. Like now

I will get your some clothes, a sword, and your very own assassin to join you on your quest." "Ooh, just what I've always wanted. A man whose job title had the word ass in it not once, but two times.

Luke captured my gaze again and said, "If beauty were time, you'd be eternity." My heart stopped. I was paralysed to look away from him (...) Thankfully, another senior boy who apparently wasn't dating anyone spoke. And when the words came out of his mouth, I understood why he was girlfriendless. "If you were a booger, I'd pick you first." A lot of yuck and that's gross penetrated the table's atmosphere. A rain of crumpled napkins showered over the boy. Of course, all the guys laughed at him, including Luke, who was finally looking away from me. I was never so grateful for such a tactless comment.

Most humans expressed affection by pressing their lips together, a simple act, so why would anyone feel the need to research the process?

My hands wrapped around his waist, traveling up the broad expanse of his back, mooth and hard, and... "Give it a rest, already," Tod snapped from somewhere behind his brother. "It already smells like sex in here, and you're both still dressed. You have no idea how messed up that is.

Natural talent!" crowed Vincent, sweeping my sweaty self up into his arms and pacing across the room, holding me like a trophy. "Of course my girlfriend's got it. In truckloads! How else could she have slain a giant evil zombie, single-handedly saving my undead body?

No. No way. That name is reserved for females with grace and elegance, not this girl. This girl is...beastly.

Oh, god…” I whimper. “I haven’t done anything yet, baby,” Colton growls. “I know,” I pant. “I was just saying your name.

Only love will attract love.”~ Amunhotep El Bey

My name," I tell Wilbur in the most dignified voice I can find, "Was inspired by Harriet Quimby, the first female American pilot and the first woman ever to cross the Channel in an aeroplane. My mother chose it to represent freedom and bravery and independence, and she gave it to me just before she died." There's a short pause while Wilbur looks appropriately moved. Then Dad says, "Who told you that?" "Annabel did." "Well, it's not true at all. You were named after Harriet the tortoise, the second longest living tortoise in the world." There's a silence while I stare at Dad and Annabel puts her head in her hands so abruptly that the pen starts to leak into her collar. "Richard," she moans quietly. "A tortoise?" I repeat in dismay. "I'm named after a tortoise? What the hell is a tortoise supposed to represent?" "Longevity?

Next, I wasn't willing to mimic a dude. I'd done it twice and it wasn't something I wanted to do again. Ever. Extra body parts and things dangling in place they shouldn't? No way.

Nothing says awkward like coming in your pants while dry humping.

Okay. When he comes, you can see him?" "Yes. I can hear him, too. And he, uh..." She brushed the bandage on the side of her skull. I looked at her in bewilderment. Was she serious? "He hits you?" "Yes." "With his fist?" "Yes." John looked up from his coffee indignantly. "Man, what a dick!" I did roll my eyes this time and glared at John once they stopped. I don't know if you've ever seen a ghost, but I'm guessing that if you did, the thing didn't run over and punch you in the face. I'm guessing that's never happened to any of your friends, either.

Our lips met and parted, and his tongue slid deep to taste me. The sounds from the peanut gallery—choking and retching—and the tug on my robe instantly drained the heat from the encounter. “That’s disgusting,” Kola assured me with a glare that a six-year-old shouldn’t have had. “Why?” I asked snidely. “Your mouth has germs,” he informed me haughtily. “That’s why you told Hannah not to lick Chilly.” “No, I told her not to lick Chilly because the cat doesn’t like to be licked by her.” “He licks his body.” “He does,” Hannah, our four-year-old, agreed with a nod. “Kola’s right.” “But he doesn’t want you to do it,” I assured my daughter. “How do you know?” Kola questioned. I had to think. Kola waited, squinting at me. “Do not lick the cat! Nobody licks the cat!” Sam ordered when the silence stretched for too long.

Remember our friend Mark?" Wylan winced. Let's say the mark is a tourist walking through the Barrel. He's heard it's a good place to get rolled, so he keeps patting his wallet, making sure it's there, congratulating himself on just how alert and cautious he;s being. No fool he. Of course every thime he pats his back pocket or the front of his coat, what is he doing? He's telliing every thief on the Stave exactly where he keeps his scrub." "Saints," grumbled Nina. "I've probably done that." "Everyone does," said Inej. Jesper lifted a brow. "Not everyone." "That's only because you never have anything in your wallet," Nina shot back. "Mean." "Factual." "Facts are for the unimaginative," Jesper said with a dismissive wave.

Our neighbors were so excited when a black family moved in that they got them a welcome basket with the first three seasons of The Cosby Show on DVD.

Sexual reproduction and food -- humans' two favorite subjects.

Shoes are stupid. Why do people wear them?" -Bliss He laughed, "So they don't step on a nail and get tetanus, that's why." -Cade "Wear. Where. Wear. W's are wwweeird."-Bliss

She's your lobster. C'mon you guys. It's a known fact that lobsters fall in love and mate for life. You can actually see old lobster couples, walking around their tank, you know, holding claws". ...

She spoke throught her teeth. "Almost, dear. What were the real words you used? The bad words. It's okay to say them again, just this once." I shrugged, "fine. I said'. . . just 'cause Daddy wants you to suck on his ding-a-ling.

(Some girl) "You said we'd have breakfast!" (Jasper) "If i live, i'll buy you waffles." "You don't have enough money to buy her waffles," Wylan grumbled. "Be quite. We're in a library.

Somehow she had climbed halfway up his body before he managed to grasp her waist. He plucked her off and set her on her feet. She started to climb up his body again. “Are you having fun?” he asked suspiciously. “We’re on the fucking moon!” she shouted. “There’s nothing here!” He stared at her. “I don’t think you’re having fun.” “No air!” He shook his head. “Think about that logically. Could you have possibly said those words if there truly was no air? Of course there’s no air or atmosphere outside this bubble—” “Ofcoursethere’snofuckingairhereorfuckingatmosphereonthefuckinggoddamnMOONyouGODDAMNFUCKINGCRAZYMORONICDJINN…” “Grace,” he roared in her face.

Speaking of fruit, I'm down--I mean, he's down--to his underwear.

Strong creatures don't form herds. Have they never heard of a lone wolf? Cats are cute, and wolves are cool. So in essence, loners are cute and cool.

The buck stops here," Ronan said, pulling up the hand brake. "Home shit home.

Si un inglés se siente incómodo en una situación (es decir, en todas) prepara té. Es una regla universal: cuando no sepas qué hacer, pon la tetera en marcha. ¿Que van a amputarte una pierna? No pasa nada, hombre, tomate una taza de té y asunto arreglado. ¿Que tu novio te pone los cuernos? Don't worry, que voy a colocar la tetera al fuego. ¿Que empieza la Tercera Guerra Mundial? Que no cunda el pánico, hay té para todos.

Tell me the story," said Fenchurch firmly. "You arrived at the station." "I was about twenty minutes early. I'd got the time of the train wrong." "Get on with it." Fenchurch laughed. "So I bought a newspaper, to do the crossword, and went to the buffet to get a cup of coffee." "You do the crossword?" "Yes." "Which one?" "The Guardian usually." "I think it tries to be too cute. I prefer The Times. Did you solve it?" "What?" "The crossword in the Guardian." "I haven't had a chance to look at it yet," said Arthur, "I'm still trying to buy the coffee." "All right then. Buy the coffee." "I'm buying it. I am also," said Arthur, "buying some biscuits." "What sort?" "Rich Tea." "Good Choice." "I like them. Laden with all these new possessions, I go and sit at a table. And don't ask me what the table was like because this was some time ago and I can't remember. It was probably round." "All right." "So let me give you the layout. Me sitting at the table. On my left, the newspaper. On my right, the cup of coffee. In the middle of the table, the packet of biscuits." "I see it perfectly." "What you don't see," said Arthur, "because I haven't mentioned him yet, is the guy sitting at the table already. He is sitting there opposite me." "What's he look like?" "Perfectly ordinary. Briefcase. Business suit. He didn't look," said Arthur, "as if he was about to do anything weird." "Ah. I know the type. What did he do?" "He did this. He leaned across the table, picked up the packet of biscuits, tore it open, took one out, and..." "What?" "Ate it." "What?" "He ate it." Fenchurch looked at him in astonishment. "What on earth did you do?" "Well, in the circumstances I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do. I was compelled," said Arthur, "to ignore it." "What? Why?" "Well, it's not the sort of thing you're trained for is it? I searched my soul, and discovered that there was nothing anywhere in my upbringing, experience or even primal instincts to tell me how to react to someone who has quite simply, calmly, sitting right there in front of me, stolen one of my biscuits." "Well, you could..." Fenchurch thought about it. "I must say I'm not sure what I would have done either. So what happened?" "I stared furiously at the crossword," said Arthur. "Couldn't do a single clue, took a sip of coffee, it was too hot to drink, so there was nothing for it. I braced myself. I took a biscuit, trying very hard not to notice," he added, "that the packet was already mysteriously open..." "But you're fighting back, taking a tough line." "After my fashion, yes. I ate a biscuit. I ate it very deliberately and visibly, so that he would have no doubt as to what it was I was doing. When I eat a biscuit," Arthur said, "it stays eaten." "So what did he do?" "Took another one. Honestly," insisted Arthur, "this is exactly what happened. He took another biscuit, he ate it. Clear as daylight. Certain as we are sitting on the ground." Fenchurch stirred uncomfortably. "And the problem was," said Arthur, "that having not said anything the first time, it was somehow even more difficult to broach the subject a second time around. What do you say? "Excuse me...I couldn't help noticing, er..." Doesn't work. No, I ignored it with, if anything, even more vigor than previously." "My man..." "Stared at the crossword, again, still couldn't budge a bit of it, so showing some of the spirit that Henry V did on St. Crispin's Day..." "What?" "I went into the breach again. I took," said Arthur, "another biscuit. And for an instant our eyes met." "Like this?" "Yes, well, no, not quite like that. But they met. Just for an instant. And we both looked away. But I am here to tell you," said Arthur, "that there was a little electricity in the air. There was a little tension building up over the table. At about this time." "I can imagine.

The most worst scenario.... I mean if this happen to me and to be so deep in the sea and sailing oh hell... let's go be with me... (The Finest Hours: The True Story of the U.S. Coast Guard's Most Daring Sea Rescue Book by Tougias, Michael J., Sherman, Casey)

There will be no slandering of celestial beings. I've warned you on countless occasions." "If said celestial beings weren't spreading celestial rumors, perhaps I wouldn't be moved to wrench celestial balls.

The Great and Tragic Love of Jonathan Shadowhunter and David the Silent, by Clary Fray, Aged 17. SIMON IT WAS BY SIMON NOT ME (...) Jonathan Shadowhunter: Oh, David, I would trust you with my life! David: Oh, Jonathan, I would sacrifice my own life for your holy mission! (He almost does) Jonathan: (weeping) David, you must return to me! I need you! I cannot do this thing without you! David: Lo, I return! Jonathan: Zounds! I feel a great stirring in my pantaloons! David: What doth thy pantalo SIMON I WILL KILL YOU

Vhat ozzer abilities do you haf?" ter Borcht snapped, which his assistant waited, pen in hand. Gazzy thought. "I have X-ray vision," he said. He peered at ter Borcht's chest, then blinked and looked alarmed. Ter Borcht was startled for a second, but then he frowned. "Don't write dat down," he told his assistant in irritation. The assistant froze in midsentence. "You. Do you haf any qualities dat distinguish you in any way?" Nudge chewed on a fingernail. "You mean, like, besides the WINGS?" She shook her shoulders gently, and her beautiful fawn-colored wings unfolded a bit. His face flushed, and I felt like cheering. "Yes," he said stiffly. "Besides de vings." "Hmm. Besides de vings." Nudge tapped one finger against her chin. "Um..." Her face brightened. "I once ate nine Snickers bars in one sitting. Without barfing. That was a record!" "Hardly a special talent," ter Borcht said witheringly. Nudge was offended. "Yeah? Let's see YOU do it." ... "I vill now eat nine Snickers bars," Gazzy said in a perfect, creepy imitation of ter Borcht's voice, "visout bahfing." Iggy rubbed his forehead with one hand. "Well, I have a highly developed sense of irony." Ter Borcht tsked. "You are a liability to your group. I assume you alvays hold on to someone's shirt, yes? Following dem closely?" "Only when I'm trying to steal their dessert" ...Fang pretended to think, gazing up at the ceiling. "Besides my fashion sense? I play a mean harmonica." "I vill now destroy de Snickuhs bahrs!" Gazzy barked.

Welcome to Stratosphere. Which church do you normally attend?" Kitty tried to think of all the churches she passed every single day on the way down from her apartment on The Peak, but her mind temporarily went blank. "Er, the Church of Volturi," she blurted out, picturing the church-like space from the Twilight movies where those scary old vampires sat on thrones.

Well, so you don't get too cocky, I myself often complete the TV Guide crossword puzzle." He puffed out his chest. "In pen.

What exactly are you doing?” I asked when he did another lap around my little living room. Connor stopped, glanced my way, and shook his head. “I’m thinking about how long it would take me to say goodnight to you if we were really dating.” Yeah. Eye roll. “Okay, got it.” I shoved him toward the door. “Out you go.

There are men and gods, and beings like Pythagoras.

They have provided a system which for terse comprehensiveness surpasses Justinian's Pandects and the By-laws of the Chinese Society for the Suppression of Meddling with other People's Business.

They're really into it, laughing and teasing each other, and I am looking at Pam and thinking once again how she is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen and that if we were back in the olden times she might have been made into a goddess because she is so beautiful. Sometimes I cannot stop my mind. It's scary.

Ugh! I absolutely hate lust. Hate. It. Every fiber of my being knows he’s not a good person, yet my body doesn't seem to give a shit at all.

Vampires didn't faint like Southern belles at the sight of blood.

We don't have dealings. He just stalks me. I'm popular like that.

Well, then, he ought to write her a letter. He ought to say: 'This is to tell you that I propose to live with you as soon as this show is over. You will be prepared immediately on cessation of active hostilities to put yourself at my disposal; please. Signed, Xtopher Tietjens, Acting O.C. 9th Glams. A proper military communication.

What do you can't do? ... Be supportive? ... You have never been supportive.. ... Being more serious? ... Nice question... good POV... but as for you it's not possible more likely impossible..