Best 15707 quotes in «humor quotes» category

She had once been the belle of her circle of small tradesmen and salesmen, but now her little pig eyes with their swollen lids could scarcely open.

She had a face which was not so much freckled as one big freckle with occasional areas of skin.

She had an ability, invaluable in a weak person, to persuade herself that whatever was inevitable had her full approval, and was in some measure her own doing.

She hadn’t planned any of this, but her thoughts ran away with her, and she hated how pathetic she must sound. Poor little human needed the big bad angel to rescue her. Yuck.

She had only two modes of operation: complete control or complete insanity.

She had the blood of the sun running through her veins and the dust of stars at her fingertips. Her every breath birthed new cosmos and her thoughts were the super moon of the darkest night. Every word was a supernova and every step an inescapable singularity. Her touch though...it was soft.

She had what I'd call a lemming ass - that is, an ass that you would follow right over the edge of the cliff.

She headed for a wide flat rock on the creek's bank, her posture still demanding 'no trespassing' but no longer 'trespassers will be shot.

She heard footsteps thumping from the crew quarters and Jacin appeared in the cargo bay, eyes wide. “What happened? Why is the ship screaming?” “Nothing. Everything’s fine,” Cinder stammered. “No, everything is not fine,” said Iko. “How can they be invited? I’ve never seen a bigger injustice in all my programmed life, and believe me, I have seen some big injustices.” Jacin raised an eyebrow at Cinder. “We just learned that my former guardian received an invitation to the wedding.” She opened the tab beside her stepmother’s name, thinking maybe it was a mistake. But of course not. Linh Adri had been awarded 80,000 univs and an official invitation to the royal wedding as an act of gratitude for her assistance in the ongoing manhunt for her adopted and estranged daughter, Linh Cinder. “Because she sold me out,” she said, sneering. “Figures.” “See? Injustice. Here we are, risking our lives to rescue Kai and this whole planet, and Adri and Pearl get to go to the royal wedding. I’m disgusted. I hope they spill soy sauce on their fancy dresses.” Jacin’s concern turned fast to annoyance. “Your ship has some messed-up priorities, you know that?” “Iko. My name is Iko. If you don’t stop calling me the ‘ship,’ I am going to make sure you never have hot water during your showers again, do you understand me?” “Yeah, hold that thought while I go disable the speaker system.” “What? You can’t mute me. Cinder!

She heaved two or three times, as if sobbing, and suddenly sneezed -- not a polite 'atchoo' but a thermonuclear explosion so powerful that she staggered in place, nearly losing her balance, and some loitering Hispanic men on the other side of the boulevard looked up alertly, ready for action.

She has all the right equipment to look sexy, pretty even. She just overdoes everything-like she's a coloring-book women who got scribbled on by a toddler,

She hated using airplane toilets. She was always afraid the plane would choose the exact moment she was most defenseless to crash, and she'd spend her final seconds of life spiraling toward earth with her bottom bare to the world.

She hit us,” the woman shrieked. That was the gist of it anyway. There were a lot of unladylike words that began with “F,” with various “C” words thrown in for leavening. … “Ben’s better,” I murmured. “He’s more creative when he swears.” “He does it in that English accent, which is too cool.

She is a famous artists' model who claims to have been christened Topaz - even if this is true there is no law to make a woman stick to a name like that.

She is beyond any mortal structure of words, yet she inspires the effort to try anyway.

She heard Piers give an excited little cry and someone gave an excited little cry in return, and Grace Vaughn appeared in the open doorway, laden down with garment bags. For one fleeting moment, Ellie saw both husband and wife’s faces light up before they resembled their usual expressions – a scowl and a pout respectively.

She held up the pen and gave him a lazy grin. "It's a rose." He came close. "It's a pen." He tried to pluck it from her hand. "You are seriously lacking in imagination.

She informed me that in the future, I was not to throw out Starbucks customers just for being heartless bitches.

She is an agent of the Devil, possibly escorted out of Hell for behavior which would make a demon go "Ooooo, that's nasty!

She is deluded enough to assume that I could feel romantically for a person with a badly drawn dog tattooed to their arm.

She knew one of the great family truths, that aunts always help, whilr moms always think it would be good for you if you did it yourself

She is happy, for she knows That her dust is very pretty

She is really really so beautiful there,' said Assad. Carl glanced at him. Apparently a woman's appearance was a particularly valuable factor in his assistant's world-view. But Carl agreed with him.

She is so tiresome. ‘Am I a vampire, am I a wolf, am I a vampire, am I a wolf, I cannot decide, so I’ll be both!

She is my companion on my many genealogical hunts, and I will be forever indebted to her for the knowledge that she bequeathed to me. And I can think of nobody I would rather traipse through a cemetery with, and that says a lot about a person.

She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt our killer." - Mr Sherlock Darcy

She juts out her lower jaw, a purposeful imitation of Daddy Eric when she asks him a question with an answer that isn't yes right away, but will be yes eventually if she waits long enough.

She jotted down the order, then forced herself to meet his gaze. "It's going to be a bit of a wait, we're short-staffed this morning." The following words rushed out of her. "And breakfast's on me." "Normally, I wouldn't protest," he said, leaning closer. "But in public, I'd prefer a plate." An image of Rukh, hair untied, licking whipped cream off her navel flashed through her mind, left her staring.

She kept her ears permanently tuned to the chicken voices outside, so knew immediately when a coyote had crept into the yard, and barreled screaming for the front door before the rest of us had a clue. (I don't know about the coyote, but I nearly needed CPR.) These hens owed their lives and eggs to Lily, there was no question.

She knew a cutting, incisive, withering and above all a self-evident answer existed. It was just that, to her extreme annoyance, she couldn't quite bring it to mind.

She knew exactly how she ought to feel, for she was well read in our greater and lesser English poets, but the unfortunate fact was that she did not really like being kissed at all.

She lived to a ripe old age, minding everyone else’s business, wrecking her house with bad do-it-yourself projects, and throwing away any household item she disliked—whether it belonged to her or not.

She looked genuinely confused. “I…I don’t know. He just seems so sweet and out of place. I guess I feel sorry for him. Kinda like a lost puppy.” “Great, well, can you just take him home with you then? I’m allergic.

She looked like a character from a video game. One of those improbably busty, impossibly well-armed superchicks who could do acrobatics and hit the kill zone even while firing guns from both hands during a cartwheel. "You look fucking ridiculous," she told herself.

She looked... She looked young, and- and--" I glanced down at Rossana gazing up at me, lips parted, eyes shining, her hair loose around her shoulders, and the next words I spoke were intended with no artifice at all. "She is almost as beautiful as you." There was laughter, and I looked up, confused. "If you wish to pay court to my daughter, Matteo, you must first speak to me," Captain dell'Orte said in mock severity. Rossana's face colored pink. "Elizabetta is also very beautiful," I said quickly, thinking to cover any embarassment, but also because it was true. The adults roared with laughter. "Now Matteo seeks to woo both girls with one compliment.

She leaned over him to pull the waistband of his flannel pants down. His erection popped out, startling her. "Oh!" She fell across his thighs. "Oh my. Good heavens." He groaned and dragged his hands down his face. "Ye needna stare at it in horror. It willna harm you." "Its . . . really big." He snorted. "It comes in peace.

Shelly looked around the jamb again as though whatever animal that had been terrorizing her had a weapon. “That doesn’t look like typical rat shit. You may be right. This needs to be handled right now. You’re a lesbian, get in there and do battle.” “What does being gay have to do with trapping a squirrel?” “Two women live together, who kills the vermin?” Shelly asked with a hand on her hip. “The pest control people, that’s who.” “Butch up and get your ass in there. I won’t tell anyone if you scream like a five-year-old girl.” “I’m a femme lesbian, which puts me in the same class as you.” Ryann pointed to her face. “Note the makeup. Besides, you were the one who always played in the dirt and rode horses.” “There weren’t any squirrels in that dirt with me! I’ll pick up a bug or a frog, I even handled a grass snake once, but I do not deal with rodents.” Ryann leaned against the doorjamb and stared into the room. “It’s most likely under the couch. Where’s Grant?” “After-school detention for piercing his and the noses of his friends with pushpins.” Ryann stared at her in horror. “What is wrong with your kids?

She looked like a dead Teletubby.

She looked like she believed in something, or wanted to, and I hoped to hell it wasn’t God, not in the way The Dad believes, because all that does is make him forced and desperate. No, it was something else, not just that I saw a pretty girl and just got all excited. I mean, yeah, that part is true, and she really was gorgeous, and the freckles covering her, the freckles on top of freckles all spread out and folding into one another made her skin look like it had grain and texture, like polished wood, like it would feel smooth to the touch, and so soft. I knew that. But it wasn’t how she looked.

She liked to keep the leaves simmering away on the stove, even though it made the tea so bitter, it was near undrinkable. She also liked to say that anyone with sense in their skull knew to sweeten life with at least three sugar cubes.

[She] lost her patience, a thing she was all too prone to misplacing.

She looks like a very young old person, or a very old young person; but then, she's looked that way ever since she was two.

She paused and the looked at Decebel 'except you. You might as well put on a tuu, a tiara, and carry a scepter because you're the queen of the idiot procession!

She made an impatient noise. "By the Angel, you don't know anything about your kid, do you? Do you even really know how vampires are made?" "Well, when a mommy vampire and a daddy vampire love each other very much ...

She nodded and smiled, but I could feel that she was slightly disappointed in me. Like Ms Parker when I answer every question in English with ‘It’s a metaphor for desire.

She needs you, Dad," Julia says. "She has unfinished business in this world." "What is the matter with you?" Charlie asks his daughter. "Any sane person would have told me to go to the doctor. I'm seeing a headless apparition every day. Maybe my medications are conflicting. You should see the list of side effects on this stuff.

she never even wore stockings; just those bullet proof tights that you see on old maids.

She never saw the point of making fun of strangers – how could you possibly know enough about them to hit below the belt?

She paused, and I took the opportunity to practice the only promotional skill at my disposal: fluttering my fingers over the telephone's mouthpiece, I attempted to cast a spell, silently chanting, It's me who you want. Me, me, me.

She managed to come up with the kind of predictions that you can only understand after the thing has happened," said Anathema. "Like 'Do Notte Buye Betamacks.' That was a prediction for 1972.