Best 15707 quotes in «humor quotes» category

My grandmother’s voice rang in my head, 'You have to haggle. Always haggle. Otherwise, they won’t respect you.

My great-grandmother once told me that "being young ain't shit; everybody gets a chance to do that. What you should be trying to do is get old, like me.

My heart battered against my ribs, my breath stalled and I gazed up into his laughing, smiling eyes...eyes that suddently glowed crimson and cruel.

My hands were trembling, but only because of who he was, not because I was scared of him. I oddly felt calmed by his presence. He smiled as he placed his hands in the pockets of his charcoal gray pants. He was finely dressed in a black button up shirt that was unbuttoned at the top low enough to see where his chest began. It clung to him, accentuating every muscular detail. I shook my head. I had to stop evaluating him. “Is everything okay?” Ethan asked, tilting his head to the side, trying to read my expression. “Huh…oh, yeah, fine.

My husband has turned out to be Mr Collins, he has placed me on a shoe budget!

My identity is not it, which given by the community. my identity is my natural mask.

My instincts told me that death would somehow be…different. But my rational mind reminded me that I had probably tempted fate one too many times. At least, I thought it was my rational mind. It sure seemed like the usual voice inside my head. Thank God there was only one of them.

... my heart skips a beat. Seriously, like a CD from the public library, it goes ZZebbTTT and skips.

My heart started racing, not the bad kind of heart racing, like I'm going to die. But the good kind of heart racing, like, Hello, can I help you with something? If not, please step aside because I'm about to kick the shit out of life.

My hope and intent is to provide a wide range of resources and ideas that provoke real questions and considerations under the surface of common dialogue. With a definite thrust toward clues for moving beyond limiting patterns that restrict our personal and communal evolution and experience of, as well as effectiveness in, life. Part of that is about giving different angles of insight into the why and how of developing skills, whatever they may be. I think the larger discussion, or maybe the more relevant one surrounding skills development, involves what quality of fuel is being used to run the skill. Inevitably, and very quickly, this enters into considerations of how much of oneself one brings to the show. For example, anyone can learn a sophisticated skill in an extremely short period of time, once they’re completely convinced of the need, benefit and value of doing so and find enough full-bodied conviction to engage it accordingly (“You never hear anyone practicing a language; they simply listen and then begin to speak.” — Wade Davis).

My dearest girl,' said the vampire finally, examining Lord Maccon with an exhausted but appreciative eye, 'such a banquet. Never been one to favor werewolves myself, but he is very well equipped, now, is he not?' Miss Tarabotti gave him an arch look. 'My goodies,' she warned. Humans,' chuckled the vampire, 'so possessive.

My imagination keeps keeps me from actually doing anything stupid.

My heart may be bruised and scarred, bleeding slow drip-drip with every thump and every other thump-thump that widens unsealable wounds. My heart is the strongest part of me. It's survived everything I've thrown at it and much more than it should.

My hens all died and my plow is broke My well is dry and my yak just croaked My farm’s all rotted straight down to the roots But I don’t care because now I can wearrrrr—! My worldwide, superglide, yellow-dyed, verified, Certified, ratified, justified and dignified, Qualified ironside, fortified and purified, Bona fide, amplified, khernhide boots!

My imagination was running amok again. Twice in one night. This never happens when I’m sitting in front of a typewriter.

My heart is pure as the driven slush.

My husband is not the secretary of state, I am.

My imagination plus Vibrizzio is not only equal to but also greater than a real man. Why should I settle for second best?

My intention is not to define a perfect life and then cause an unhappy analysis of what you are not doing correctly or are incapable of doing.

My least favorite thing was a man who had severe white-man's ass, where the jeans just bagged over the butt. I wanted something to hold on to, something to sink my teeth into. When I said I liked meat on my men I didn't just mean one thing.

My life," she said dramatically, with her eyes closed, "is one heaping bowl of warmed-over despair, seasoned with equal dashes of aggravation and angst!

My last girlfriend was a Showgirl - But we eventually broke up because she wouldn't Tell me anything. Now I'm dating a girl who looks exactly like my grandma, only my girl older. -James Lee Schmidt and Jarod Kintz

My life of crime began at seven twenty-eight this morning." ~ Charmaine Digby

My life is so bad that it's worse than it really is.

My life was full of drama, with the highs and lows of Tyler’s daily mood swings and my private innuendos with Vandenberg. There’d never been a movie made that could permanently shift my mood away from my disappointment with myself.

My interests are varied. They include natural history, lady detectives, and good hygiene,” I said with a significant lift of the brows towards his feet. “What in seven hells does that mean?” he demanded. “It means that if you come to bed smelling like something from a barnyard again, I will scrub you myself with rose soap and a firm hand,” I threatened.

My kids are starting to notice I'm a little different from the other dads. "Why don't you have a straight job like everyone else?" they asked me the other day. I told them this story: In the forest, there was a crooked tree and a straight tree. Every day, the straight tree would say to the crooked tree, "Look at me...I'm tall, and I'm straight, and I'm handsome. Look at you...you're all crooked and bent over. No one wants to look at you." And they grew up in that forest together. And then one day the loggers came, and they saw the crooked tree and the straight tree, and they said, "Just cut the straight trees and leave the rest." So the loggers turned all the straight trees into lumber and toothpicks and paper. And the crooked tree is still there, growing stronger and stranger every day.

My loneliness taught me a thing which is too appreciable! The people for whom we think that they can help us while we need them, they just kicked a rough comment over the situation and say "Sorry".

My mate is really, really weird. She is also absolutely covered in brown, mushy clay. She laughs and holds a large lump up to show it to me. Her mouth moves, and she makes enough noise to scare away a group of birds near the shore. She is so, so strange.

My Lord... what is Death like?" called the old man tremulously. "When I have investigated it fully, I will let you know," came the faintest of modulations on the breeze. "Yes," murmured the Loremaster. A thought struck him. "During daylight, please," he added.

My love is sticky, like glue. I'd kill a horse just to give you some.

My manager, who is a very timid person, often tells me that I should think before I speak. I tell her that she should actually have the guts to speak up about the things she thinks.

... my love life in college had a lot of moving parts.

My many years of living have not made the actions of teenage boys any less enigmatic.

My mind didn't clear. It had been clear before. Instead it muddled, suddenly ablaze with rioting factions of insecurities and dreams, a cacophonous battleground of conflicting moral codes and dogma. I was, therefore, back to normal.

.My middle name is actually Noel." "So what's your first then?" From her expression, he was almost afraid to ask. Noel bit her bottom lip. "Christmas.

My main regret in life is that there is no MacArthur Fellowship awarded in the field of Panda Satire.

My master warned me about you.” “Then he isn’t a complete fool,” Talik said. “Just mostly.

My mom was a phlebotomist who drove all over creation drawing people’s blood. Sort of a transient medical vampire.

My mother named me Vivia Perpetua because she believed naming me after some long-dead, mostly forgotten saint would motivate me to spend my life collecting unused eyeglasses for the blind or doling out mosquito netting to malaria-plagued Africans. Not that there is anything wrong with those efforts, but please." Vivia in Faking It

My mother always advised me not to trust a dead person.

My mother would say, 'Why are you always playing alone?' And I would say, 'I'm not playin', Ma. I'm fuckin' serious!

My MOTIVATION was struggling..I got Tired of it!

My motto for fashion: If you can’t afford to make an elegant statement, make a ridiculous one.

My mind is like clay, but thank goodness God knows how to mold it!

My mind ran over everything that had happened lately, and running on such thoughts made even my feet hurt.

My mom wasn't home to arbitrate, so he forced me to try to strangle him with a phone cord.

(…) my money guy Richard is going without a tie now, like a politician who wants to appeal to the suffering common man (or perhaps every morning his firm takes the ties and shoelaces away from the brokers and financial planners to keep them from offing themselves)

My mother agreed to aid my abuse of alcohol but only if I promised never to tell my newly converted Mormon sister, whose identity I had stolen.

My mother-in-law belongs in Hell, but the devil is afraid she’ll end up taking over.