Best 15707 quotes in «humor quotes» category

Lucius had told him word was out that he was dead. Han decided that being dead made travel much easier.

Luck is the bastard child of Fate and Destiny.

Lucas took a tentative sip of his coffee. It tasted like an otter had pissed in a tea urn and it had been left to go stale over a prolonged period.

Lucifer will be furious with you for failing, but it's not like he can do anything about it. Women don't always do what you want, even if you're Lord of the Underworld.

Luckily," he went on, "you have come to exactly the right place with your interesting problem, for there is no such word as 'impossible' in my dictionary. In fact," he added, brandishing the abused book, "everything between 'herring' and 'marmalade' appears to be missing.

Luckily, I was not born a white man.* *This has never before been said in the history of humanity.

Lust and love. They both put a fire in your damn shorts.

Lucas shook his head. "We haven't caught him yet. We're still looking." "Every ship but your four fastest," I murmured to myself.

Lucian. She's not normal. She's got the sex drive of Ursula. I'm so ashamed to say I've faked illnesses and gone to the doctor just to have a doctor's excuse! ~Steve~

Lucifer had been ranting his endless laundry list of complaints for forty-five minutes now, and Louhi still didn’t know exactly what she was supposed to apologize for. There was something about her plant having eaten his cape while he had been waiting, as for the rest… She wished she could read an immortal’s thoughts, but their brains were constructs, simulations… Which actually explained a lot.

Luck is a woman. She's drawn to those that least deserve her.

Lucy: I don't feel like talking about college. It increases my stress level. James: And increased stress levels lead to hair loss. Lucy: My head-hair volume is fine. James: You say that like I should be concerned about leg-hair volume.

Lucille,” Norma Jean whispered loud enough for me to hear from my foliage hideout. She leaned over her walker and adjusted her glasses. “Is that Willis Harvey up front by Elsa?” “Well, pinch my pooch, I believe it is,” Lucille said. “I barely recognize him with his clothes on.

Luck is merely a product of the happily delusional mind.

Luffy: "Shanks you arm!" Shanks: "Its no big deal. Just one arm. I'm glad your safe

Lust? I have no desire to incite lust in anyone." Veliss turned to her with a quizzical expression, her smile suddenly genuine. "Then I'm afraid you're in for a lifetime of disappointment.

Lucas - You'll have to excuse Paige's overenthusiastic attempt to befriend the local wildlife. Not many of their type where she comes from. Paige -Hey, we have gangs in Boston. Lucas - Ah, yes. I believe they're particularly bad down by the wharf, where they're liable to descend upon the unwary, surround him with their yachts, and shout well-chosen and elegantly elocuted epithets.

Lucifer, how, after a dozen millennia in Hell, could you possibly lose your way?" the Devil asked incredulously. "Well," the lesser demon began, "It is a rather large place...

Luckily for us, I've never met a bad idea I did not immediately embrace like the dearest of friends.

Luck is my middle name," said Rincewind, indistinctly. "Mind you, my first name is Bad.

Lucy woke with the munchies the night the kidnappers came for her.

Lydia, I couldn't figure you out with a four hundred page manual and a telephone help line.

Lydia: What the devil do you mean by creeping up on me? You're suppose to be in a brothel. Vere: I lied. I can't believe you fell for the old going-to-a-brothel ruse. You didn't even look out the window to make sure I'd gone away.

Ma'am is yet another horrible-sounding word in the lexicon of words that women are stuck with to describe various aspects of their body/life/mental state/hair. Vagina. Moist. Fallopian tubes. Yeast infection. Clitoris. Frizz. These are all terrible words, and yet they are our assigned descriptors. Who made up these words? Women certainly didn't. If, at the beginning of time, right after making vaginas, God had asked me, 'What would you like your most intimate and enjoyable part of yourself to be called?',' I most certainly wouldn't have said, 'Vagina.' No woman would, because vagina sounds like a First World War term that was invented to describe a trench that has been mostly blown apart but is still in use. Even off the very top of my head I feel like I could have come up with something better, like for instance the word papoose, which actually as I'm typing it feels like an incredibly brilliant word for vagina.

Mackay had just failed to tip the coat-check girl and was now blinking and working his arms into a too-small trench coat; he looked like a seagull trying to lift up out of an oil spill.

Mad! Quite mad!' said Stalky to the visitors, as one exhibiting strange beasts. 'Beetle reads an ass called Brownin', and M'Turk reads an ass called Ruskin; and-' 'Ruskin isn't an ass,' said M'Turk. 'He's almost as good as the Opium-Eater. He says we're "children of noble races, trained by surrounding art." That means me, and the way I decorated the study when you two badgers would have stuck up brackets and Christmas cards. Child of a noble race, trained by surrounding art, stop reading or I'll shove a pilchard down your neck!

Mae's first impulse was to die of shame, but she realized after a hot, stomach-clenching moment that this was probably impractical.

Lydia had been fantasizing about him to the point she nearly drove him insane with it. It had taken four days for his energy to weaken inside her enough that he could go and visit her without fear she would throw him across the town in a gust of wind, and thus cause a scene. Although, getting run out of town after one day would be a new MacGregor record.

Maggie chiuse gli occhi e contò sino a dieci. Uno, due, tre… Se voleva arrivare a casa di sua sorella prima che facesse notte, non aveva altra scelta che chiedere al cowboy di accompagnarla. Certo, avrebbe sempre potuto optare per il motel e attraversare quelle duecento iarde pullulanti di lupi. Un altro ululato. No, non avrebbe potuto. «Lupi» disse Mitch, il braccio sinistro che sporgeva indolente dal finestrino, il mozzicone del sigaro stretto tra le dita. «Lupi» ripeté lei con un’alzata di spalle, come se si trattasse di barboncini addestrati. Poi mosse un paio di passi esitanti verso il pick-up. Quell’affare era così alto che dovette allungare il collo e sollevare la testa per parlare al cowboy. «Mi chiedevo…» mormorò vincendo ogni residua resistenza. Lui rimase immobile, se non per il sopracciglio sinistro che scattò verso l’alto. «… se per caso tu non potessi darmi uno strappo.» Lui finse di prendere in considerazione la cosa. Poi, con un altro sbuffo di fumo, disse: «Mi sembrava che avessi rifiutato la mia offerta, dieci minuti fa...». «Perché non intendevo esserti di disturbo» rispose lei come se si stesse rivolgendo alla duchessa di Kent. E di fatti lui scoppiò a ridere. «Essermi di disturbo? Dopo avermi assalito come un ninja? Ma sarò magnanimo. Dai, sali.» Maggie tirò un sospiro di sollievo. Era così stanca e infreddolita che anche quel pick-up scassato le parve per un istante una limousine. «Dove metto la valigia?» «Buttala dietro, nel cassone.» Buttare nel cassone la sua Samsonite rosa, costata una cifra improponibile? «Preferirei sistemarla in cabina, se non ti spiace.» «In cabina non c’è posto, qua dietro è pieno di roba. A meno che tu preferisca viaggiare nel cassone e la valigia sul sedile…» Lei rimase zitta, gli occhi sgranati, per nulla certa che quella fosse solo una battuta. «Ok, ci penso io» tagliò corto lui, aprendo la portiera e scivolando a terra con un balzo. Afferrò il trolley per la maniglia e, senza un’altra parola, lo fece volare nel cassone. Oh! Il botto risuonò nelle orecchie di Maggie come una granata. Risistemandosi lo Stetson sulla testa, il cowboy girò intorno al pick-up e con un sorriso esagerato aprì la portiera del passeggero. «Sali, sorella di Suzie, o vuoi che dia una mano anche a te?»

Maggie had learned a long time ago that each day with a child was filled with two kinds of battles: those that won the war, and those that did not.

Madame will forgive me for not perceiving her busyness. It is a sign of the highest breeding to be able to be busy whilst appearing idle to the uninformed observer.

Madonna's- Justify My Love, follows us into the lounge, where several men, seated at the tables, eye us like hungry lions as we walk through. Tiger asked, "So, this is a WHOREhouse?" "Actually, a gay BATHhouse. I hope you don't mind that I'm a little bit of a SLUT-puppy." "MIND? NO. You're MY HERO.

MacMillian groaned again, and sat up. "Clients?" "Yeah. You know, people who'll give us money in exchange for work.

Maddie squirmed out from under him. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I know this is supposed to be physical. Impersonal. It’s only that I keep thinking of lobsters.” He flipped onto his back and lay there, blinking up at the ceiling. “Until just now, I would have said there was nothing remaining that could surprise me in bed. I was wrong.” She sat up, drawing her knees to her chest. “I am the girl who made up a Scottish lover, wrote him scores of letters, and kept up an elaborate ruse for years. Does it really surprise you that I’m odd?” “Maybe not.” “Lobsters court for months before mating. Before the male can mate with her, the female has to feel secure enough to molt out of her shell. If a spiny sea creature is worth months of effort, can’t I have just a bit more time? I don’t understand the urgency.

Maddison de la Botella, licence to drill.

Mad' sounds dashing, daring and admirable when you hold the tattered flag in the midst of battle and expired natives lie all over the carpet with holes in 'em that you put there. 'Mad' is less impressive written on a form by a commissioner of lunacy as you're turned over to the hospitallers of St Mary of Bedlam to be dunked in ice water because your latest 'scrape' was running starkers down Oxford Street while gibbering like a baboon.

Ly-di-ah! I sit beneath your window, laaaass, singing ’cause I loooove your a—” “For the love of St. Francis of Assisi, someone call a vet. There is an injured animal screaming in pain outside,” Charlotte interrupted the flow of music in ill-humor.

Maar als je genoeg kikkers kust, kom je vanzelf wel een prins tegen.

Madison sparkled like the words on her oversized chest. There was glitter embedded in her eye shadow, in her lip gloss, in her nail polish, hanging from her ears in shoulder grazing hoops, dangling from her wrists in blingy bracelets. If the lights went out in the hallway, she could light it up like a human disco ball.

Magdalena pulls me away by the arm. “I am the stronger one of Titus and I,” she says over the marketplace din. “Woman are always the stronger sex.” She smiles to herself. “The trick is not appearing to be so.

(Maggie)I opened my senses as I made my way stealthily down the hall. Truly all that was missing was Mission Impossible theme music, but if I was being honest, it was playing in my head anyway.

Magic is what you make it.

Majid gave me a brief dazzling golden stare and then half-lidded his eyes again. I know when my life is being threatened.

Magic is the only honest profession. A magician promises to deceive you and he does.

Magic was all fun and games until you had the H-bomb of spell materials on the bottom of your shoes.

Make a concise statement clearly and you should only need to say it once.

Make everything an adventure. Otherwise, it will suck.

Make me proud today, Robmeister. Keep your hands to yourself and remember rule number one above all things.' 'Don't discuss politics.' 'No, the other one.' Robbie nods. 'Don't eat glue.' He drops his chin. 'It's my weakness.

Make you life the greatest story told!

Make your life the greatest story ever told!