Best 15707 quotes in «humor quotes» category

How is it a man can walk out the door with only the clothes on his back and he fares well, but a woman needs to compress her entire chamber into the confines of a satchel to ensure survival?

How is it that standing outside for a minute in 90 degree heat is torture, yet standing in a blistering hot shower for 20 minutes is paradise?

How is Mrs. Rivers doing?' asked the agent, a very tall and large man, well-dressed, bald and depressing, with a manner of gliding into his office from a side door without perceptibly moving his feet which had struck terror into many young writers and caused them to accept the lowest terms Mr. Hobb could offer.

How hard can writing be? After all, most of the words are going to be 'and,' 'the,' and 'I,' and 'it,' and so on, and there's a huge number to choose from, so a lot of the work has been done for you.

How is it that food STILL contains calories that make you gain weight in the 21st CENTURY?! It’s like scientists aren’t even trying!

How is it that I am completely naked while you haven’t shed even one stitch of clothing?” “Because you were dinner, Rebecca.” A snort escaped, mixing with her laughter. “Remind me to have dinner with you more often. I have been missing out.” “You? What about me?

How is it you can talk so nicely?' Alice said, hoping to get it into a better temper by a compliment. 'I've been in many gardens before, but none of the flowers could talk.' 'Put your hand down, and feel the ground,' said the Tiger-lily. 'Then you'll know why.' Alice did so. 'It's very hard,' she said, 'but I don't see what that has to do with it.' 'In most gardens,' the Tiger-lily said, 'they make the beds too soft - so that the flowers are always asleep.

Howl backed into the door to shut it and leaned there in a tragic attitude. "Look at you all!" he said. "Ruin stares me in the face. I slave all day for you. And not one of you, even Calcifer, can spare time to say hello!" Calcifer said, "I never do say hello." "Is something wrong?" asked Sophie. "That's better," Howl said. "Some of you are pretending to notice me at last. Yes, something is wrong.

How gratifying it is to amuse. How easy it gets to toss off a witticism to ease any awkwardness, to sidestep any solemnity. When you amuse, it even seems, for the briefest possible moment that you are who you appear to be, so clever and confident and at ease.

How is it?" I ask as we stroll towards the dressing rooms. "Working at the playground. That must be fun." "Sure, they're just adorable," she says, "For the first five minutes. And then I want to wring their adorable little necks." I stop, shocked. "I always figured you loved kids." "Yeah, no." Kayla shakes her head emphatically. "One kid, I can do, even two-- just stick them in front of a Disney movie, let them play Xbox all night. But a herd of them?" She shudders.

How long you guys been renovating?” Craig asked Arianna. “About a month.” “How much longer?” Arianna sighed. “The contractor messed up the counters, so who knows.” “Preaching to the choir.” “Yeah?” “Oh, yeah. But in the end everything turned out for the best.” “How so?” “Well, for one, I switched from laminate to granite.” “Granite . . .” She exhaled, confounded, as if the granite countertop quandary was the most perplexing philosophical question of all time. “Yeah . . .We’re torn.” “More expensive, but aesthetically superior,” Craig lobbied. “Also retains value longer.” Knowing the sexual perversity about to transpire, I couldn’t reconcile that I was suddenly in an episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. Granted, I didn’t know from normal pre–group sex discussion topics, but I was pretty sure home improvement wasn’t on the list.

How many great gems were lost to thought and not put down to pen. You can but think of just a few and then they're lost again.

How many happy people do you think there are in the world? Twelve?

How many plays have been written in France?' Candide asked the abbe. 'Five or six thousand.' 'That's a lot,' said Candide. 'How many of them are good?' 'Fifteen or sixteen,' replied the abbe. 'That's a lot,' said Martin.

How long have you been with Raphael?” “You ask a lot of questions for a dead woman.” “What can I say? I prefer to die well-informed.

How long y' think it'll take t'git that wild streak out im?" "Well, Brother Tiggins, that'll depend on how long he can weather the leather.

How many faces a woman has?;Supreme Being divided by zero.

How many Lojbanists does it take to change a broken light-bulb?” goes the old Lojban joke. “Two: one to decide what to change it into and one to decide what kind of bulb emits broken light.

How many girls’ schools have expelled you?' 'This is number six,' Emma volunteered.' Papa, is Maria going to Paris? Is she?' 'No, Emma, nor anywhere else on the Continent. But she is going _somewhere_, to be sure.

How much of my fever-induced dream was real? I felt safe assuming that my time as a bee was fiction, as well as a few mythological animals that I swear I'd seen. Then I'd lived on the sun with aliens.

How old did they tell you I am?” she demanded, hurrying to match his pace. Joel shook his head. “If my mother ever taught me anything, it was to never question a lady’s age.

How's Alison getting on?' Conway snorted. 'Tucked up in the sick room like she's dying in some season finale. Little fadey voice on her and all. She's having a great old time.

How poor are they that have no patients! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?'" "Shakespeare isn't going to save you this time, Superman. Your time's run out." He scowled. "Perhaps I should have been studying The Taming of the Shrew!

How're you holding up?" He slid down the wall next to me and handed me a beer. "I've had better days." I took a long, satisfying drink and stared at the wall in front of me. "Yeah," was his simple reply. "My dad is downstairs. He said this wake sucks." I could hear that he was smiling. I took another swig. "Well, I didn't plan this shindig, but the next funeral I host, I'll make sure it's a rager.

How the fuck was he supposed to function in the fucking real world if he couldn’t even break into his own god damn house?

How old were you when you realized you were... different?' Logan opened his mouth, then smiled slyly, 'What sort of different? Gay different, magic different, or just plain fucked-in-the-head-crazy different?' Collin bit back a smile at Logan's delivery, 'Magic different.' 'Ah,' Logan said, 'Pity, the other stories are a lot more fun.

How the hell did you know where I was?" Prophet demanded. Cillian said simply, "Don't bother searching your phone for chips." "Then how did you know?" "Prophet, I know everything." Fuck him. Cillian did.

How’s your first week so far?” Isabele asks. “Well, let me see,” I begin. “Chloe says my penmanship is shit, and I was only thirty minutes early this morning, which apparently means I’m late, but on the bright side, she thinks her non-fat, half-sweet, no-whip soy latte didn’t taste right and then she told me she’s not paying for it. Other than that, work is just fine.

How rude of me, we haven’t even introduced ourselves. We’re the Andersons. I’m Evan, the lovely size-zero lass in the floppy sun hat is my wife Amy, and these are our best friends/children, Evan and Amy Jr. As you can see, we’re very fit and active. You know what our family’s average percentage of body fat is? Three. Yes, really. We got it tested last year when we all became organ donors. You may have noticed that I’m carrying Amy on my back. We do that a lot. At least once a day, and not just when we’re in fields like this; we do it on beaches and in urban environments as well. That’s what happens when your love is deep and playful like ours. You should also know that we also dab frosting on each other’s noses every single time we eat cupcakes, which is both mischievous and very us. Do you guys even eat cupcakes?

How upset is she?” “Let me put it this way,” his brother began, “All the shit you’ve shoveled from stalls in your life is nothing compared to how deep you’re in it now.

How was practice?" Shawna asked when Jet walked into the kitchen. "You must've worked hard again, you smell like a wet puppy." "We did." Jet grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. " Your buddy said she was proud of us today." "That's good." Shawna smiled as checked on their dinner. " Are you starting to like her now?" I don't want to beat her with my flagpole anymore, but I wouldn't say I like her. Now your other friend is all up in the punch. Mrs. Scofield was at practice today passing out chocolate milk and telling us what to do with our glitter," Jet said and took a drink of her water. Shawna glanced at Jet. "What're you going to do with the glitter?" "Put it on my eyelids. Personally, I think we're gonna look like sparkly hookers, but makeup isn't my call...

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

How would you like to star in your very own commercial?" "I'd rather swim in battery acid.

How ya doing?” Gabby’s face came into view, and she grinned down at me. She’d stopped doing her healing thing, and the pain rushed in. “I’m just peachy,” I quipped, throat scratchy. “Only hurts when I breathe or blink or exist, if I’m being honest.

How would we get corporate sponsorship if we were just a bunch of thugs?

How would I overlook the name Moody? Why, that's like overlooking Hanover, or—or Plantagenet.' The woman laughed. 'I would hardly compare Adrian Moody to a royal line!

Huh. Veronica Mars, speechless. I'll have to write this one in my feelings journal.

HP-UX is a pretty good implementation of BSD, although it's not as featureful as SunOS.

Hrun the Barbarian, who was practilly an academic by Hub standards in that he could think without moving his lips.

Huh, I thought that a woman was bad luck on a ship." Ben looked at Emma. "Well, Emma's not really a woman, see," Bones said. "She's not?" Ben asked in surprise. "Well, no, not exactly." "Well, then, what is she?" "Well, she's... she's more of like... well, sort of a captain," Bones finally concluded. "A captain?" Ben rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's it," Bones nodded. Suddenly, a cannon fired. Joe Salty realized that he had set the cannon off by accident and looked fearfully at Emma. She swooped down to him and held her sword to his throat. "Shooting at anything in particular, Mr. Salty?" Emma questioned. "Um... just testing it, Cap'n," Joe sputtered. "Well, don't be wasting ammunition on a stupid thing like that again, or you'll be visiting Davy Jones real soon," she warned. With that, she jumped onto the top deck and began to climb the rigging. Ben turned to Bones. "You're right. She's definitely not a woman.

Huh! Mankind always comes up with ideas to make up for the follies of the status quo. But what happens if those ideas are inflexible and fail to respond to the changing times. They end up betraying the people who believed in them.

How you felt?" he asks, still looking like he's trying to hide a smirk. "Oh, shut up. I'm going now. I'm sorry I bothered you, your Highness of Reindeerness," I say, with more than a little sarcasm. "I promise not to ever disturb you again.

Hoy un tipo se me quedó viendo raro por la calle, pensé que era por mi peinado y me lo acomodé. Luego seguí arrastrando el cadáver.

Human history is full of depressing things like colonization, disease, racism, sexism...inventions of things which they had no idea how to handle (the atomic bomb, the Internet, the semicolon)....And through it all there has always been some truly awful food.

Humanism is my Religion, Good is my adoption , Bad is my Elimination, Acceptance is my Decision, Love is My Gift , Relation is my Affection ,Truth is My Strength, Help Is My Credit , Knowledge is My Treasure

Humanity's a nice place to visit, but you wouldn't want to live there.

Humanity’s first faster-than-light spacecraft crashed into Pluto and vaporised a significant portion of it. Oops. Pluto’s status as a planet had been a matter of contention since the early twenty-first century and had come close to starting the fourth world war at the beginning of the twenty-second century. Making it even smaller did absolutely nothing to help the situation, and humanity came five minutes, and one hasty phone call, from another world war.

Humanity takes itself too seriously. It is the world's original sin. If cavemen had known how to laugh, history would have been different.

Humanity was a passing notion to him; something he liked to try on for size and model in the dressing room, but never actually felt compelled to buy.

Humankind must no longer permit the lie to be taught to its children.