Best 15707 quotes in «humor quotes» category

How can you improve human nature until you have changed the system? The other, what is the use of changing the system before you have improved human nature? They appeal to different individuals, and they probably show a tendency to alternate in point of time. The Moralist and the Revolutionary are constantly undermining one another. Marx exploded a hundred tons of dynamite under the Moralist position, and we are still living in the echo of that tremendous crash. But already, somewhere or other, the sappers are are work and fresh dynamite is being tamped un place to blow Marx to the moon.

How can you tell there's anything out there?" said the man politely. "The door's closed." "But you know there's a whole Universe out there!" cried Zarniwoop. "You can't dodge your responsibilities by saying they don't exist!" The ruler of the Universe thought for a long while while Zarniwoop quivered with anger. "You're very sure of your facts," he said at last. "I couldn't trust the thinking of a man who takes the Universe - if there is one - for granted." Zarniwoop still quivered, but was silent. "I only decide about my Universe," continued the man quietly. "My Universe is my eyes and my ears. Anything else is hearsay." "But don't you believe in anything?" The man shrugged and picked up his cat. "I don't understand what you mean," he said.

How can you sleep at a time like this?” she asked, but the only answer was a low snore. She looked at him suspiciously. In the short time she had been with him, she had never before heard him snore. “You’re faking,” she said. “No. I’m really fast asleep,” came his voice from under the cowl.

How could I have missed the opportunity to pop pills with my sister who was purer than a Quaker?

How could I persuade the in-laws I was the right one for their daughter when, instead of focusing on small talk, all I could think about was not to kill them? I could only imagine what I'd say to the prospective in-laws, "Hello, it's a pleasure to eat, I mean, meet you.

How devastated I am to say that I will not be present at your petite soiree on June 10th. Unfortunately, the exceptionally weak drinks you ordinarily serve at these occasions are not sufficient to dull my senses to your boyfriend's futile efforts to grope me in the hallway.

How close to the moon does the tooth fairy soar with her arms so full she can hold no more? Could the tiny bright stars that hang in the sky be the teeth that fell down as she flew by?

How come he didn't notice it earlier? Ah, probably because it was behind Xera's back while her voluptuous breasts were, as expected, on her chest.

How can you love someone who doesn't think they deserve to be loved?

How did they decide what was valuable? Did they all just gather together, sit around in their suits and gowns, and say, “Oi. Let’s start eatin’ fish eggs, and make the stuff real expensive. That’ll rust their brains, it will.” Then they’d have a nice round of rich folks’ laughter and throw some servants off the top of a building to see what kind of splats they’d make when they hit.

How does this keep happening to you?” Fiona asked me. “Mackinac’s a little island but guess what, you come across yet another body!” “Hold on a minute, stop right there. Forget the you part about the bodies. Okay, the first one was mine I’ll give you that, but the last one was definitely a we body.

How do I define history? It's just one fucking thing after another

How do you explain plastic to a medieval forest bard?

How do you know this is Paige?” I ask, pretty sure this is another fantasy. It’s one thing to have Dad’s tracking device. It’s another to actually be tracking Paige, considering she needs to have the transmitter on her. “The devil tells me.” She lowers her head, looking troubled. “If I promise him certain things,” she mumbles. “Okay.” I rub my forehead, trying to be patient. There’s a certain art to getting information out of my mom. You need one foot in reality and one foot in her world to get a better picture of what she’s talking about. “How does the devil know where Paige is?” She looks up at me as if I’d asked the dumbest question in the world. “The transmitter, of course.

How do you know you're a girl? I'm wearing a frock. And if you take it off? I get cold, so I put it back on. If I was a boy, I don't know what I'd do.

How do you express a skinny blonde werewolf and a former toad in a cake?

How does one have a duel with a dragon? Well, since they live high up in the mountains, and getting all the way up there can be quite a nuisance indeed, one just has to ring the guest bell the dragons rather politely placed at the bottom many years ago when very incensed farmers kept appearing with complaints about their dwindling livestock. Dragons jokingly refer to it as “their dinner bell.

How does one move a rock? Walk around it.

How do you feel right now?" "I hurt like hell." "You'll feel worse tomorrow." "So?" "So, better get a jump on this while you still feel...not as bad." "What kind of logic is that?" I retorted.

How do you keep a mattress on the roof of your car from flying?” “Yeah, well, I don’t know how many people know it, but a lot of people have learned that putting your arm up there to hold the mattress is not going to work.

How do you possibly manage to turn talk of an angel into something perverted?

However, I suppose VH1 *is* selling me something; they're selling nostalgia, which means they're selling my own memories back to me, which means they're selling me to me.

However, neither occasion quite matched the levels of hilarity that ensued on the day Mr Miller sat on the corner of his desk and farted it to pieces.

How do YOU want to greet him?!” “By licking his neck?

How'd you get to be so good at this?" "I had a good teacher." "Better not have been Myrnin or I'll have to kick his predatory ass." "I mean you, dummy." "Oh.

How easy it is for so many of us today to be undoubtedly full of information yet fully deprived of accurate information.

However, he wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were.” “And so ended his affection,” said Elizabeth impatiently. “There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!” “I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love,” said Darcy. “Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.

How, exactly, did I kill him? He died on the golf course.” One minute he’d been practicing his swing, and in the next—phzzt—a freak lightning bolt had hit him right in the nine iron. His shoes were still smoking when she reached him.

How do you poop? Where does it go? If you get more prestigious as you go down, aren't you shitting on the upper classes?

How is everything, Nadia," he said. "It's hot." I replied, smiling a little bit. "Never forget," Nasser said, teasing me. "It's very hot, Nasser, it's very hot.

How funny.” I say flatly. “and I was hoping for a battle of wits but you appear to be unarmed.” His laugh fills the silence and brings a smile to my face.

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.