Best 2389 quotes in «comedy quotes» category

She spoke with all the authority vested in her by her flea-market prayer beads and her lotus-flower tramp stamp.

Shoot the dictator and prevent the war? But the dictator is merely the tip of the whole festering boil of social pus from which dictators emerge; shoot one, and there’ll be another one along in a minute. Shoot him too? Why not shoot everyone and invade Poland? In fifty years’, thirty years’, ten years’ time the world will be very nearly back on its old course. History always has a great weight of inertia.

SIMPSONS BLUFFER'S RULE #2 The competent bluffer should always refer to the performers who play The Simpsons as 'the voice talent' never 'actors'. For extra effect, drop their first names... This implies some tacit familiarity and your bluffee will simply melt before your eyes like the witch in The Wizard of Oz

Since he didn’t seem to understand the situation, I felt it my duty to enlighten him. “Wrong. You started this stupid rumor and half the school probably believes it’s true. Now you have to stick around and pretend to be my boyfriend to convince everyone I don’t have sex with random guys. Not to mention the fact that if you’d kept your mouth shut about getting laid, you wouldn’t be in this situation.” He raised a brow. “So you’re my punishment?

Since little-girlhood, we're trained to find the Big Bad Wolf seductive.

Since Ratcliffe, due to his disbelief in the practice of telling time, failed to record dates in any of his writings, history cannot say for certain which battle he took part in.

Sir Eustace was with Royce and Stefan looking over some maps when he was informed by the guard that the ladies were asking for him. "Is there no end to her arrogance!" Royce bit out, referring to Jenny. "She even sends her guards on errands, and what's more, they run to do her bidding." Checking his tirade, he said shortly, "I assume it was the blue-eyed one with the dirty face who sent you?" Sir Lionel chuckled and shook his head. "I saw two clean faces, Royce, but the one who talked to me had greenish eyes, not blue." "Ah, I see," Royce said sarcastically, "it wasn't Arrogance that sent you trotting away from your post, it was Beauty. What does she want?

Sir, he hath not fed of the dainties that are bred in a book; He hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink; his intellect is not replenished; he is only an animal, only sensible in the duller parts... (Act IV, Scene II)

Slap-stick comedy is really funny, unless you're the one getting slapped with the stick.

Sleepwalking is the perfect exorcise for lazy people

Smile makes women smarter, humour makes men handsome.

So, if there are any couples here this evening having a secret extramarital affair, I encourage you to breed.

So, how’d you get the tattoo?” she said. “Drunken frat boys don’t say no to things their drunken frat brothers are telling them to do.” “That almost sounds like an admission of weakness from the invulnerable Andrew Sheffield.” “Not weakness. Stupidity, maybe. That, I’ll cop to.” “I can’t believe the man behind such a successful business is stupid.” “You’d be surprised. Just as there are different kinds of intelligence, there are different kinds of stupid.

So it turns out I wasn't the only Jew at the rally. There were two and a half more. Not protesting against the UPF, but supporting them? That clinches it. Skinheads side by side with Jews; immigrants against immigrants; Shermon's promise of a far-right hajj – this is a case for John Safran, Jew Detective.

Somehow, some way, every person in the arts has to find an accommodation with disappointment and embarrassment. They are the pollen in the air we breathe.

Some people fight fire with fire. I've found water to be more effective.

Some people seem quite destitute a sense of humour.

So nice to be stuck up here again, wouldn't you agree Agres.” “Not really no.” Agres replied “Day three is it” Agres nodded they where huddled up behind a rock as the cold wind blew around their small fire “I didn't really miss being stuck up here did you?” “I bet Tria, you'd rather be stuck in a swamp again wouldn't you?” “Actually I'd gladly take being stuck in a swamp over being stranded on a cold mountain any day. You hear that Dilmore!

Somewhere in the back of my head must have been the thought that No leads to dead ends, and Yes leads to possibilities. Again, hearkening back to my improv days, this was the ultimate "Yes And.

Something a bit less brown this time, please? All this talk of dung, you see, has rather put me off the Kahlua...

Son," he said, "you monkeyed up.

So...Now that we got that over with, let's get back to love at first sight, Evan said. Not infatuation at first sight...Love. With a capital L, he clarified. Love? Heeb asked, playfully pretending not to know the concept. Yeah. The real thing. The conviction that if you had this one woman, all other women would become irrelevant. You'd never again be unhappy And you'd give up anything to have her and keep her. You've experienced that? Only once. And I haven't stopped thinking about it ever since. Tell me more. Sometimes I think that I still chase women just to forget about her. Because I know I can never have her. But I can't seem to forget about her, no matter what girl I'm chasing...No one can possibly compare.... Who is she? Delilah, Evan said wistfully. Delilah?, asked Heeb, intrigued Delilah Nakova, Evan replied, with a hint of awe and reverence in his voice.

Sorry, pigtails, but subtlety isn't an option anymore.

So sometimes I'll make up sh*t that's not even slang, just to see how they handle it and sh*t. It'll be the same thing, they just go: "All right, we're gonna close the deal. Is that fine with you, Dave?" "Yeah, it sounds good to me." "Great. You have a good weekend, Dave." "All right, buddy. Zip it up, and zip it out." He'll be like... "Uh... All right. Zippity-doo-dah, bye-BYE.

So what have I missed.” Ingra asked Javal “Not much but hey I managed to reach your friend in Islette so all's good.” Javal sounded nervous but why would he be nervous?

So, what you’re basically telling me is death is boring but no worse than hanging out with family.

Sort of' is such a harmless thing to say... sort of. It's just a filler. Sort of... it doesn't really mean anything. But after certain things, sort of means everything. Like... after "I love you"... or "You're going to live"... or "It's a boy!

So, to sum up my room-clearing generalizations, men are in comedy to break rules.

So you spoke to Laurence Myer?” “Oh, no. I added him though. We’ve achieved virtual friendship.

So what we are right now is a pair of dickweeds in a hotel room in Sydney. My life is royally fucked up right now and from where I’m sitting, your life is even bloody worse.

Speak English at this table or I will fire you so fast you'll wind up standing at the airport wondering how you got from here to there without any goddamn pants on.

Stay away from her." "Okay." "Keep your hands off her." "I'll try." He scowled at me. "I will," I said.

Staring at my smoldering hot date, her husband stands tall for the first time in a decade, adjusting his toupee while flashing a horrid green toothy grin that looks more like a Steven Hawkins muscle spasm. In his hands, a frightened beer bottle is choked with the steel grip of a sexually repressed Preacher.

Sticks and stones may break your bones but words can break hearts.

St John had been sitting in the back garden twizzling a pencil, on the end of which a russet deposit was impaled, which had been left on the lawn by Marmaduke, next door’s ginger cat. His father had wandered in to the garden and seen St John mesmerised by the twirling mahogany baton. “What are you doing son?” he asked. “Toasting a witch”, St John replied.

St John had always been a fan of the RS Turbo, mainly due to the colour coded rear spoiler and air vents in the bonnet, which distinguished it from the more common and less powerful XR3i.

Stop your idiocy, Sandra, please. For once in your death.

Suddenly, however, the dastardly department of my personality presented two plans, one of which involved dynamite, mustache wax, some rope, and train tracks . . . which I rejected due to financial investment.

Success=Assinchair

Stubble or what?" Eyes still closed he chuckled. "I'm not shaving until our parents let us date again." He kissed my cheek. "What if it takes... a... while?" I asked struggling to talk. He'd made his way down to my neck. His tongue circled there slowly. "There are only six or seven weeks until August football practice starts right?" "Hm." His mouth moved up my neck toward my ear. Oh. "Will you be able to stuff your beard into your helmet?" I croaked. In answer he put his lips on my ear. I forgot the next joke I'd planned to make and lost myself in Adam.

Take care of your car in the garage, and the car will take care of you on the road.

Sure we could replace war with paintball battles. But it would escalate to paint grenades, paint bombs, weapons of mass paint. I don’t want to live in a world where my kids have to worry about what color they will be in the morning.

Sure I eat my feelings, but I save the emotional roller coaster for dessert

Support your partner in their interests. You never know when batting practice, kung fu movie moves, or even a poker night might come in handy during a zombie infestation.

Taking his hand I said "Fank woo." "Hm " he laughed with his mouth closed.

Tears streamed down my face. I was so happy I wanted to shout it from the rooftop. But at the same time I knew that that afternoon's downpour would have made the slate tiles so slippery that achieving any kind of purchase would have been impossible.

Tatiana is a ridiculously curvy thing of dreams, with smooth succulent thighs, long strawberry blond cascading beneath a teal bandana, and a nympho sparkle in her eyes that says pick me, lick me, spank me, or I punish you. Raw innocence and mayhem at once.

Thank God it wasn’t beef jerky, or I might’ve ended up dead." "The President's Neighbor" a comedy script by Brett Bacon.

That was 1993 grunge in suburbia. This was 2003 hell in Harlem. (Dark City Lights)

Thank you. For being willing to talk. For not turning me in. For... being you.' 'I'm pretty good at being me,' I said. 'I've had all these years to practice--I hardly ever get it wrong these days.