Best 15707 quotes in «humor quotes» category

A soldier: "I know where heaven is and it's Lithuania ... The women are beautiful, pagan, with a practical view towards sex. Who says communism was bad? You're working three levels of advantages: you're a foreign male, you're a rich, exotic American, and their men are a bunch of drunken, criminal slobs.

As Richard has pointed out on several occasions, I subscribe to the irregular verb theory of life: I am a trained investigator, you have a healthy curiosity, she/he is a nosy parker.

As soon as Mr. Prosser realized that he was substantially the loser after all, it was as if a weight lifted itself off his shoulders: this was more like the world as he knew it.

Assad: 'I have written it just down here.' He Pointed to a number of Arabic symbols that could just as well have meant it was going to snow in the Lofoten Islands in the morning.

Assassins: they got sass and live on sin.

As soon as he was in range, I struck. I put all my wrath into that punch. It should have been enough to vaporize Mikey and leave a thug-shaped impression on the asphalt. Instead he ducked, which I found quite annoying. I stumbled forward. I have to say that when Prometheus fashioned you humans out of clay he did a shoddy job. Mortal legs are clumsy. I tried to compensate, drawing upon my boundless reserves of agility, but Mikey kicked me in the back. I fell on my divine face.

Assassino uns colossos para relaxar.

As she drove the familiar route to the school, she considered her magnificent new age. Forty. She could still feel "forty" the way it felt when she was fifteen. Such a colorless age. Marooned in the middle of your life. Nothing would matter all that much when you were forty. You wouldn't have real feelings when you were forty, because you'd be safely cushioned by your frumpy forty-ness. Forty-year-old woman found dead. Oh dear. Twenty-year-old woman found dead. Tragedy! Sadness! Find that murderer!

As rain began to fall, Aldric worried the old machines would not be able to survive the weather. "Hand me that oil can!" he shouted to Siomon. Magic machines need oil?" asked Simon. Of course they need oil. They're not perfect.

As Samson demonstrated, going bald ruins lives.

As she welcomed the feelings and let them move through her, the hole became whole, her edges got smoother. Then a weight lifted off and the walls all dissolved, which revealed to her heart the most holy curve ball...that even holes are a part of the whole of it all.

As special as it is to listen to your friends argue over whether or not you have a mental illness,I'm starting to get the urge to go back to class.

A stab had clearly once been made at de-uglifying these public spaces by painting a corridor a jaunty yellow. This was because, it turned out, babies come here to have their brains tested and someone thought the yellow might calm them. But I couldn’t see how. Such was the oppressive ugliness of this building it would have been like sticking a red nose on a cadaver and calling it Ronald McDonald.

As soon as we got back I ran upstairs and told everyone the story, thus telling everyone the alarm code, thus breaking one of the Ten Commandments when I lied and said I’d keep the code a secret. As I’ve known for a long, long time now, hell is going to be totally fucking worth it.

As the carriage bumped her bones along the dark country lanes, Martha decided that if she ever got back to her own time she would write a book called 'Travel in the Edwardian Era. It would be a short book - OUCH in capital letters followed by fifty pages of bad language.

As the class went through the Greeks and the Romans and the Renaissance painters, (who were easy enough to remember if you’d ever seen Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) there was more dick on display than in a locker room.

As the Dark Lord spoke when he saw the Archangel Michael descending upon him: We are in some serious shit.

As the doctor treated the wound, Mazer said, " I don't care how much you eat, Ender, self-cannibalism won't get you out of this school.

A stampede of footsteps came pounding up, accompanied by the yodeling howls of two very excited pugs. They loved drama like blonde haired sorority sisters.

As thou know not what is the way of the spirit, nor how the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child: even so thou know not the works of what makes all.

A stóirín, ya are a handful of trouble, but I kind of like it.

As they prepared to mount, Barak's horse, a large, sturdy gray, sighed and threw a reproachful look at Hettar, and the Algar chuckled. 'What's so funny?' Barak demanded suspiciously. 'The horse said something,' Hettar replied. 'Never mind.

As they walked into the living room, Trevor cleared his throat loudly. "We're coming in. Hands where I can see them, dicks where I can't.

As the middle child of the Laurel Canyon Adams Family, Whit was surprisingly chill on the subject of ampire-vays.

As they say, 'It's all downhill from cupcakes.

As thou hast said unto thy servant, that thou, which gives life to all, hast given life at once to the creature that thou hast created, and the creature bare it: even so it might now also bear them that now be present at once.

As the visitor left the office, Tuppence grabbed the violin and putting it in the cupboard turned the key in the lock. "If you must be Sherlock Holmes," she observed, "I'll get you a nice little syringe and a bottle labelled Cocaine, but for God's sake leave that violin alone.

A storm of yellow notepads, broken pencils, papers, and books littered the tables and floor of the room, along with a collection of empty beer cans. It looked as if a party of wild librarians had just cleared out.

A sturdy hold, but I think there's something up with the material.

As we all know, as if forever exploiting or attempting to exploit each other were not enough, a group of sane human beings who have just reached the end of a war against a common enemy of theirs will sooner or later start or continue killing and/or fighting against each other.

As we'd say Down Under, there's no point pushing shit uphill with a rubber fork on a hot day." "Are these real Australian sayings or do you come up with this stuff yourself?" I said. "It's genetic," Muz said, grinning."We're born with it already in our blood.

As we rode along LaBoeuf commenced whistling tunes, perhaps to take his mind off his sore arm. Rooster said, "God damn a man that whistles!" It was the wrong thing to say if he wished it to stop.

As we move through time, we age, with the general speed of everything and the chaos that that produces in us in the form of anxiety, fear, confusion and negotiating an already-existing war, there is little time and space left to adjust to our developing relationship to yearning. In other words, as our needs are met, the question answered, we don’t then move on to the next question.

A sure way to start your own business is to stay out of everyone else’s.

As your abilities begin to grow, your angelic side will start to manifest itself in more noticeable ways." "My angelic side. Great. Like I don't have enough to deal with." "It's not so bad," Mom says. "You'll learn to control it." "I'll learn to control my hair?

As you wish. But I'd like to change the pace a little. You know, my throat is sore from talking so much. So, what would you think if I tell you about the Sullens through interpretive dance? Honestly, I'm quite good at it, and I usually charge admission, or at the very least ask for a box of treats. But for you, tonight's performance it's on the house.

A tale within a Tweet, how sweet!!

At a time like this maybe the world is looking at us not just at a miracle crusade or sunday church service but the way we are living. Maybe they want to see whether what our Master left for us worked for us; there is a counter spirit to the spirit of fear, it is the love of God.

At best, us ladies are just a bunch of Mirandas with a slightly better wardrobe and at worst, we're a bunch of Magdas, aka Miranda's housekeeper, which means we're a bunch of nosy bitches who rifle through people's belongings and let them know they masterbate too much.

At Camp Don Bosco, there were Bibles all over the place, mostly 1970s hippie versions like Good News for Modern Man. They had groovy titles like The Word or The Way, and translated the Bible into “contemporary English,” which meant Saul yelling at Jonathan, “You son of a bitch!” (I Samuel 20:30). Awesome! The King James version gave this verse as “Thou son of the perverse rebellious woman,” which was bogus in comparison. Maybe these translations went a bit far. I recall one of the Bibles translating the inscription over the cross, “INRI” (Iesus Nazaremus Rex Iudaeorum), as “SSDD” (Same Shit Different Day), and another describing the Last Supper — the night before Jesus’ death, a death he freely accepted — where Jesus breaks the bread, gives it to his disciples, and says, “It’s better to burn out than fade away,” but these memories could be deceptive.

At a certain age almost all questions a person asks himself are about one thing: how should you live your life?

At 2:00 sharp on the afternoon of his internment, with his body resting in a casket in the front room of his home, the pallbearers--all bridge players--stuck a deck of cards in Mr. Hampton's cold hands, shut the lid over his head, and played bridge.

At a certain age almost all the questions a person asks him or herself are really just about one thing: how should you live your life?

A tall woman with ass-length, honey-blonde hair had entered the lobby and was barking orders at an entourage of men who toted her Gucci leather luggage. Her dog, a white Westie, was barking, adding to the commotion. “Justin!” the woman chastised the man who held the door open for her. “Icky snow on my feet. My Manolo Blahniks. Oh my God! These shoes are a work of art! Do somethinggg!

At any other time, we would have been sheep in the company of wolves. But now, we have what people might call "presence".

At any rate I'd better be getting out of the wood, for really its coming on very dark. Do you think it's going to rain?' Tweedledum spread a large umbrella over himself and his brother, and looked up into it. 'No, I don't think it is,' he said: 'at least - not under here. Nohow.' 'But it may rain outside?' 'It may - if it chooses,' said Tweedledee: 'we've got no objection. Contrariwise.

A teleporting cat! Is she yours?" Dr. Daniel McCleod. "Suki

Até quando utilizarão o humor como desculpa para comentários racistas? Quem olhará pela menina negra que odiará seu cabelo por causa das piadas? Quem lucrará a gente já sabe.

A terrible plague has either killed mankind or transformed them into demons ... and all they want is Compton's soul. The best place to conceal esoteric information is right in front of us.

At forty-two, I was still holding up pretty well, but my once effortlessly lean body now look as though it belonged in a Dove firming cream ad -- the one where they give women permission to have thighs. When I unbuttoned my jeans at night, I swore I heard the same sound that Pillsbury dough made when I twisted the cylindrical container. My hair was beginning to gray, and when I smiled, the parentheses around my mouth remained. My least favorite position in yoga class was the downward dog because, as I hung my head downward, I always felt the skin from my face was about to splatter against my mat like a pancake batter hitting the griddle. So being called the top model by a young Italian was a wonderful souvenir, though cheaper than the toys sold outside the Pantheon in Rome.