Annoyed Sarcastic Quotes

Percy smiled at her - that sarcastic troublemaker smile that had annoyed her for years but eventually had become endearing. His sea-green eyes were as gorgeous as she remembered. His dark hair was swept to one side, like he'd just come from a walk on the beach. He looked even better than he had six months ago - tanner and taller, leaner and more muscular. Percy threw his arms around her. They kissed and for a moment nothing else mattered. An asteroid could have hit the planet and wiped out all life, and Annabeth wouldn't have cared.

Jace broke off the kiss and stepped back with an exhale; before Clary could say anything, a chorus of sarcastic applause broke out from the nearby hill. Simon, Isabelle, and Alec waved at them. Jace bowed while Clary stepped back slightly sheepishly, hooking her thumbs into the belt of her jeans Jace sighed. "Shall we join our annoying, voyeuristic friends?" "Unfortunately, that's the only kind of friends we have.

Wraith shoved his hands in his jeans' pockets. "How long before we consider you overdue and mount a rescue party?" "Never." Reaver shrugged into his shirt. "If I don't come back, it is because I'm either dead or in a situation that's too dangerous to get me out of." "Oh," Sin said brightly-and sarcastically. "You mean like the situation Harvester is in." Seminus demons were annoying no matter what gender. "Yes. Like that." She punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Good. Glad we're clear. Try to come back soon or we'll come after you.

I’m not other women.” No, she isn’t. Because other women don’t entertain me as much as she does. I suddenly wonder how I ever made it through life without Hannah Wells’ sarcastic barbs and annoyed grumbles.

Percy smiled at her—that sarcastic, troublemaker smile that had annoyed her for years but eventually had become endearing. His sea-green eyes were as gorgeous as she remembered. His dark hair was swept to one side, like he’d just come from a walk on the beach. He looked even better than he had six months ago—tanner and taller, leaner and more muscular. Annabeth was too stunned to move. She felt that if she got any closer to him, all the molecules in her body might combust. She’d secretly had a crush on him since they were twelve years old. Last summer, she’d fallen for him hard. They’d been a happy couple for four months—and then he’d disappeared.

I stare at the water. He stares at me. I can feel his gaze burning into my face, and I shift my head again, smiling wryly. “Let’s hear it.” “Hear what?” “Some more lies. You know, how last night was just you doing me a favor, you don’t really want me, yada, yada.” I wave my hand. To my surprise, he laughs. “Oh my God. Was that a laugh? Reed Royal laughs, folks. Someone call the Vatican because an honest-to-God miracle has occurred.” That gets me another chuckle. “You’re so annoying,” he grumbles. “Yeah, but you still like me.” He goes quiet. I think he’s going to stay that way, but then he curses under his breath and says, “Yeah, maybe I do.” I feign amazement. “Two miracles in one night? Is the world ending?

Then someone else appeared from the crowd, and Annabeth's vision tunneled. Percy smiled at her-that sarcastic, troublemaker's smile that had annoyed her for years but eventually had become endearing. His sea-green eyes were as gorgeous as she remembered. His dark hair was swept to one side, like he'd just come from a walk on the beach. He looked even better than he had six months ago-tanner and taller, leaner and more muscular. Annabeth was to stunned to move. She felt that if she got any closer to him, all the molecules in her body might combust. She'd secretly had a crush on him sonar they were twelve years old. Last summer, she'd fallen for him hard. They'd been a happy couple together for four months-and then he'd disappeared. During their separation, something had happened to Annabeth's feelings. They'd grown painfully intense-like she'd been forced to withdraw from a life-saving medication. Now she wasn't sure which was more excruciating-living with that horrible absence, or being with him again... Annabeth didn't mean to, but she surged forward. Percy rushed toward her at the same time. The crowds tensed. Some reach d for swords that weren't there. Percy threw his arms around her. They kissed, and for a moment nothing else mattered. An asteroid could have hit the planet and wiped out all life, Annabeth wouldn't have cared. Percy smelled of ocean air. His lips were salty. Seaweed Brain, she thought giddily. Percy pulled away and studied her face. "Gods, I never thought-" Annabeth grabbed his wrist and flipped him over her shoulder. He slammed into the stone pavement. Romans cried out. Some surged forward, but Reyna shouted, "Hold! Stand down!" Annabeth put her knee on Percy's chest. She pushed her forearm against his throat. She didn't care what the Romans thought. A white-hot lump of anger expanded in her chest-a tumor of worry and bitterness that she'd been carrying around since last autumn. "Of you ever leave me again," she said, her eyes stinging, "I swear to all the gods-" Percy had the nerve to laugh. Suddenly the lump of heated emotions melted inside Annabeth. "Consider me warned," Percy said. "I missed you, too." Annabeth rose and helped him to his feet. She wanted to kiss him again SO badly, but she managed to restrain herself. Jason cleared his throat. "So, yeah…It's good to be back…" "And this is Annabeth," Jason said. "Uh, normally she doesn't judo-flip people.

I suddenly wonder how I ever made it through life without Hannah Wells’s sarcastic barbs and annoyed grumbles.

Flyaways should be called siblings because they are annoying and they get in the way.

Aeron’s stone-faced expression cracked, as he turned to give me a dumbfounded look. Meeting his questioning eyes, I let out a little annoyed sigh, “I refuse to believe that you don’t know the meaning of ‘cojones’.” “I’m well aware of the meaning,” he raised his eyebrows, fighting back a smile. “Just a little surprised at your choice of words…” “Yeah, I can really paint a verbal picture,” I responded dryly.

He smirks, shaking his head and letting his eyes wander. I watch him carefully, wondering what I can say to get him to leave. “I’m not leaving until you answer some questions. Plus, I’m holding your sketchbook hostage, so you might want to cooperate.” I raise an eyebrow at him. I guess there isn’t much I can say. “This isn’t a hostage negotiation.” He chuckles half-heartedly as his eyes take me in, almost sizing me up. “I guess I should introduce myself.” He holds a hand out for me to shake. “I’m Nathan.” I stare at his hand for a moment. “Taylor,” I reply, meeting his eyes again without taking his hand. He lets his hand fall back to his side. “At least I got you to say something non-hostile.” “I haven’t been hostile,” I object. His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, haven’t you?” “Why don’t you leave me alone?” I snap. “Leave and don’t come back.” I move passed him, heading for my apartment. He can’t follow and annoy me if I lock the door. “Where are you going?” he demands. I look back over my shoulder and roll my eyes at him, indicating the answer should be obvious: anywhere he isn’t. Once inside, I slam the door behind me. “That was totally not hostile!” he calls after me, sarcastically. I quickly head for my bedroom door, slamming it, too.

Think of mental energy as broadcasting on a certain wavelength,” he tried to explain. “People with powers of the mind can tap into that wavelength…” “That’s all fine and good,” I nodded, “but evidently my transmitter is broken. Or much more likely…I never had one in the first place.” “Ah, yes,” he nodded unenthusiastically, “and your nose is mounted upside-down.” “Excuse me?” My forehead creased. “I do wish you would quit contradicting me,” he let out a tired sigh. “It’s insulting…and highly annoying.

Percy smiled at her—that sarcastic, troublemaker smile that had annoyed her for years but eventually had become endearing. His sea-green eyes were as gorgeous as she remembered. His dark hair was swept to one side, like he’d just come from a walk on the beach. He looked even better than he had six months ago—tanner and taller, leaner and more muscular.

Clearing his throat, he kept his tone even and flat. “Kiara Zamir, the dancer.” Hauk gave a low, appreciative whistle. “What was she doing with those scabs?” Nykyrian cut a droll stare at the Andarion and a question that was so stupid there was no reason to even bother answering it. “Yo, dumbass,” Darling said sarcastically. “What do you think she’d be doing with them? Giving them ballet lessons?” Hauk narrowed his gaze at Nykyrian. “Tell me again why I can’t kill him?” “You’re afraid of handling explosives.” Hauk cursed. “One day I’m going to get over that and when I do…” “I’ll wisely stop annoying you.” Darling winked at him.

The only member of the team nobody liked was our 6 o’clock sports guy, a fellow named Howard Cosell. “Monday Night Football” was just getting started and Howard was annoyed at having to be on the same news with mere local personalities, whom he would attack on the air. This was a mistake in the case of Roger Grimsby who was a lot sharper and even more devastating than Cosell, in his own way. I remember one night, at the end of his report, Howard went into a sarcastic putdown of Grimsby that lasted for what seemed like two minutes. Finally, when Howard was finished, the camera switched to Grimsby who was sitting there with his eyes closed, snoring.

I go with him to retrieve his backpack. The hallway’s deserted, so he and I steal a kiss against the row of lockers. Then I push him away. “I thought you were morally opposed to PDAs.” “Yeah, they’re gross,” he says, and leans in again. I hold him off with the palms of my hands against his chest. “I’d hate for you to have to do something that makes you uncomfortable.” “I’ll survive.” “Come on,” I say, and shove him toward the exit. “Let’s go. But admit you were wrong about that whole kissing in public thing. It’s not such a crime.” “It is when I’m not the one kissing you.” “Were you jealous of James? Even back then?” “I don’t know,” he says. “Not exactly. And you guys were pretty annoying. I was sincerely disgusted by you—” “Thanks.” “But I’ll admit that if I’d been standing where he was standing, I’d probably have had a different view of the whole thing.” “The funny thing is, he was jealous of you for a while there.” He snorts. “I seriously doubt that your ex has ever been the slightest bit jealous of me. Look at him. And look at me.” “I’m not comparing you two—” “Because I’d lose.” “Well, yeah, but only in looks and personality.” Now it’s his turn to thank me sarcastically.

The gleaming orange and silver express slid to a stop beside them. Tiger barged his way on board. Bond waited politely for two or three women to precede him. When he sat down beside Tiger, Tiger hissed angrily, "First lesson, Bondo-san! Do not make way for women. Push them, trample them down. Women have no priority in this country. You may be polite to very old men, but to no one else. Is that understood?" "Yes, master," said Bond sarcastically. "And do not make Western-style jokes while you are my pupil. We are engaged on a serious mission." "Oh, all right, Tiger," said Bond resignedly. "But damn it all..." Tiger held up a hand. "And that is another thing. No swearing, please. There are no swearwords in the Japanese language and the usage of bad language does not exist." "But good heavens, Tiger! No self-respecting man could get through the day without his battery of four-letter words to cope with the roughage of life and let off steam. If you're late for a vital appointment with your superiors, and you find that you've left all your papers at home, surely you say, well, Freddie Uncle Charlie Katie, if I may put it so as not to offend." "No," said Tiger. "I would say 'Shimata', which means 'I have made a mistake.'" "Nothing worse?" "There is nothing worse to say." "Well, supposing it was your driver's fault that the papers had been forgotten. Wouldn't you curse him backwards and sideways?" "If I wanted to get myself a new driver, I might conceivably call him 'bakyaro' which means a 'bloody fool', or even 'konchikisho' which means 'you animal'. But these are deadly insults and he would be within his rights to strike me. He would certainly get out of the car and walk away." "And those are the worst words in the Japanese language! What about your taboos? The Emperor, your ancestors, all these gods? Don't you ever wish them in hell, or worse?" "No. That would have no meaning." "Well then, dirty words. Sex words?" "There are two--'chimbo' which is masculine and 'monko' which is feminine. These are nothing but coarse anatomical descriptions. They have no meaning as swearing words. There are no such things in our language." "Well I'm...I mean, well I'm astonished. A violent people without a violent language! I must write a learned paper on this. No wonder you have nothing left but to commit suicide when you fail an exam, or cut your girlfriend's head off when she annoys you." Tiger laughed. "We generally push them under trams or trains." "Well, for my money, you'd do much better to say 'You-------'," Bond fired off the hackneyed string, "and get it off your chest that way." "That is enough, Bondo-san," said Tiger patiently. "The subject is now closed. But you will kindly refrain both from using these words or looking them. Be calm, stoical, impassive. Do not show anger. Smile at misfortune. If you sprain your ankle, laugh.

Say something,” she forced out, already bracing for an unfavorable reaction. Annoyance. Or amusement. Or worst of all, pity. Ewan still looked odd, as if he hadn’t quite understood what she’d said. “You love me?” She supposed she could pretend it was a joke. By now, he must be used to her sarcastic ways. He might almost believe her. And if he did, it would salve her pride, if not the gaping wound inside her. But she’d ventured this far. She wasn’t coward enough to retreat. With shaking hands, she dragged the sheet up to cover her nakedness, hoping the fragile linen might armor her against the hurt she’d invited. She pressed back against the bedhead. “Yes.” The blue eyes continued to measure her with almost detached curiosity. “I’m….I’m astonished.” Better than pity, she supposed. At least it should be. “You don’t have to love me back. After all, it’s absurd to fall in love in the space of a few days.” To her chagrin, a ghost of a smile played around his lips. “Absurd.” Anger came to her aid. Thank goodness. She’d much rather feel angry than vulnerable. “This doesn’t have to make you feel uncomfortable. I won’t cling, or pine, or make scenes.” “I’m not uncomfortable,” he said steadily. His expression remained enigmatic. “Well, good,” she said, at a loss. Her fingers tightened on the sheet. What on earth happened now? Had she expected him to tell her he loved her too? The shaming truth was that somewhere deep inside her, she’d hoped that if she was henwitted enough to crash headlong in love with him, he might love her back. If only a little. “Charlotte, I didn’t fall in love with you in a couple of days.” He spoke deliberately, making every word count. She flinched at his honesty. Although she supposed the truth was kinder in the long run. Even if right now, she felt like he stuck a knife into her. “You don’t have to—” He raised his hand to silence her. “I fell in love with you at first sight. Before I met you.” Bewildered,

At some point look in the mirror and say, “Maybe I’m the one who needs to change. If I’m always critical, maybe I’ve developed a habit of seeing the bad rather than seeing the good. If I’m always skeptical, maybe I’ve trained myself to be cynical and sarcastic rather than believing the best. If I’m always finding fault, maybe my filter is dirty. Maybe I’ve become judgmental and condemning instead of giving people the benefit of the doubt.” This is especially important in relationships. You can train yourself to see people’s strengths or you can train yourself to see their weaknesses. You can focus on the things you like about your spouse and magnify the good qualities, or you can focus on the things you don’t like and magnify the less-desirable characteristics that annoy you.

How to tell a funny story Funny stories are some of the most popular stories, because they bring laughter and humor into the conversation. Here are some ways you can tell a funny story. ●       Relate embarrassing stories. ●       Don’t try too hard. It is ironic how a person can be funnier when they are not really trying to be. Also, try too hard and your audience may find it annoying and irrelevant. ●       Keep the story personal. People tend to respond to people who try to humbly relate their stories. The more honest you are, the better. ●       Keep it short. Short stories tend to be the funniest. ●       Use a particular emotional attitude. You can choose a particular characteristic or attitude, like annoyed or excited, and try to live it. You can also sarcastically use the opposite emotion of what you are trying to convey. ●       Don’t worry about what other people might say as you tell your story. Funny stories should sound spontaneous and natural.

But one and all they were abusive, aggravating, annoying, brash, brutal, cantankerous, caustic, churlish, detestable, discourteous, execrable, fiendish, flippant, fresh, galling, hateful, hostile, ill-tempered, insolent, impudent, jabbering, jeering, knavish killjoys. They were leering, loathsome, malevolent, malignant, nasty, nauseating, objectionable, peevish, perverse, quarrelsome, rude, sarcastic, splenetic, treacherous, truculent, uncivil, ungracious, waspish, xenophobic, yapping, and zealous in making themselves obnoxious to and in making trouble for everyone with whom they came in contact.

You look...well." "Because I am behaving the way you want?" I asked with a sarcastic tone. But I knew I did. And that was what he wanted from me. Act like a Protector who had been living in the palace. Not to be an outsider. "Because," I heard him say before annoyingly taking a deep breath. "You look beautiful and you are actually enjoying yourself just like them." He pointed out the group of nobles on the other side of the room. I glared at him. "Is that a compliment? If so, that was terrible." King Warren's hand went back to his neck and he cleared his throat. "Only the truth.

So are you an angel?” Sam asked.
 Nausea curdled in my stomach. “Don’t call me that.”
 “Why not?”
 I had to unclench my jaw so I could answer. “Because I don’t like it.”
 “How come?”
 “Just don’t,” I snapped.
 “Why?”
 Gods, did he want me to hit him? I picked up my pace, but he matched my steps. 
 “Some girls like bein’ called ‘Angel’,” he pushed, unrelenting.
 “How would you know?” I glared at him. 
 He clutched his chest like I’d stabbed him. “Shortcake, what are you implying?”
 I ignored him. 
 “I’ll have you know I’m a high commodity around here.”
 “Funny, seems like I’m the only person you ever talk to.” 
 “I talk to lots of people!” He grinned.
 “Then how ’bout you go talk to one of them and leave me alone.”
 “You’d miss me,” he said.
 “Let’s try it and see.”
 “You wound me!” he said dramatically. “I’m delightful!” 
 “You’re annoying.” 
 “Shortcake, you tryin’ to break my poor lil heart?” 
 “If your heart’s anywhere near as thick as your head, I think you’ll be fine.”
 “Hey!” He sounded genuinely indignant now. “That was mean!

percy smiled at her with that sarcastic troublemaker smile that had annoyed her for years, but eventually had become endearing.

Don’t get too many ideas. You’re the annoying friend of my little brother, who’s all grown up now.” “Thanks,” he said with a sarcastic snort. Then his gaze locked on mine. “You’re the phenomenal sister of my best friend, who I’ve wanted my entire life.

I miss your smile. I mean, it’s really annoying to hear your sarcastic toneless laugh, but I miss that crooked smile on your face when you do that.” “That’s the nicest thing anyone ever said to me this past few months.” “I’m touched.” “Thank God for me.” “Yeah, I didn’t tell you where I was touched.

Cream & Sugar" A freshly brewed cup of coffee needs to be poured into a mug, piping hot. You need to add a bit of cream and sugar. And this is exactly how a marital relationship works; it needs to be poured out a certain way. You see, no one likes lukewarm coffee. And similarly, social interactions at home also need to be piping hot and fresh. No one likes a lukewarm relationship. And this is why marriage conversations resort to sarcastic remarks, brutal blows, and sometimes even delightful insults.