Armstrong Funny Quotes

A boo is a lot louder than a cheer.

He said "cool" like I say a Spanish word when I'm not sure of the pronunciation.

Ooh, big day in town for our park warden,” I said. “They’re even making you wear the uniform. Hayley’s mom will be happy. She thinks you look hot in it.” Dad turned as red as his hair. Mom’s laugh floated out from her studio. “Maya Delaney. Leave your father alone.

Simon whispered to me, “But is everything okay?” “No,” Tori said. “I kidnapped her and forced her to escape with me. I’ve been using her as a human shield against those guys with guns, and I was just about to strangle her and leave her body here to throw them off my trail. But then you showed up and foiled my evil plans. Lucky for you, though. You get to rescue poor little Chloe again and win her undying gratitude.” “Undying gratitude?” Simon looked at me. “Cool. Does that come with eternal servitude? If so, I like my eggs sunnyside up.” I smiled. “I’ll remember that.” *** “Oh, right. You must be starving.” Simon reached into his pockets. “I can offer one bruised apple and one brown banana. Convenience stores aren’t the place to buy fruit, as I keep telling someone.” “Better than these. For you, anyway, Simon.” Derek passed a bar to Tori. “Because you aren’t supposed to have those, are you?” I said. “Which reminds me…” I took out the insulin. “Derek said it’s your backup.” “So my dark secret is out.” “I didn’t know it was a secret.” “Not really. Just not something I advertise.” ... “Backup?” Tori said. “You mean he didn’t need that?” “Apparently not,” I murmured. Simon looked from her to me, confused, then understanding. “You guys thought…” “That if you didn’t get your medicine in the next twenty-four hours, you’d be dead?” I said. “Not exactly, but close. You know, the old ‘upping the ante with a fatal disease that needs medication’ twist. Apparently, it still works.” “Kind of a letdown, then, huh?” “No kidding. Here we were, expecting to find you minutes from death. Look at you, not even gasping.” “All right, then. Emergency medical situation, take two.” He leaped to his feet, staggered, keeled over, then lifted his head weakly. “Chloe? Is that you?” He coughed. “Do you have my insulin?” I placed it in his outstretched hand. “You saved my life,” he said. “How can I ever repay you?” “Undying servitude sounds good. I like my eggs scrambled.” He held up a piece of fruit. “Would you settle for a bruised apple?” I laughed.

We'll meet you here. Hopefully everyone will be in human form." A wry smile. "Though I'll warn you, he's not a whole lot more pleasant that way. At least as a wolf, he can't talk.

Whatever it is," I said, "the point is moot because as long as I'm on these pills, I can't make contact to ask." Derek ... snapped, "Then you need to stop taking the pills." Love to. If I could. But after what happened last night, they're giving me urine tests now." Ugh. That's harsh." Simon went quiet, then snapped his fingers. Hey, I've got an idea. It's kinda gross, but what if you take the pills, crush them and mix them with your, you know, urine." Derek stared at him. What?" You did pass chem last year, didn't you?" Simon flipped him the finger. "Okay, genius, what's your idea?" I'll think about it. ..." *** Here," Derek whispered, pressing an empty Mason jar into my hand. He'd pulled me aside after class and we were now standing at the base of the boy's staircase. "Take this up to your room and hide it." It's a ... jar." He grunted, exasperated that I was so dense I failed to see the critical importance of hiding an empty Mason jar in my room. It's for your urine." My what?" He rolled his eyes, a growl-like sound sliding through his teeth as he leaned down, closer to my ear. "Urine. Pee. Whatever. For the testing." I lifted the jar to eye level. "I think they'll give me something smaller." ... You took your meds today, right?" he whispered. I nodded. Then use this jar to save it." Save . . . ?" Your urine. If you give them some of today's tomorrow, it'll seem like you're still taking your meds." You want me to . . . dole it out? Into specimen jars?" Got a better idea?" Um, no, but ..." I lifted the jar and stared into it. Oh, for God's sake. Save your piss. Don't save your piss. It's all the same to me." Simon peeked around the corner, brows lifted. "I was going to ask what you guys were doing, but hearing that, I think I'll pass.

You guys are weird," Tori said. Simon sat on the crate beside me. "That's right. We are totally weird and completely uncool. Your popularity is plummeting just by being near us.

That depends. Are you going to call me an ass again?" "That depends. Are you going to act like one?" -Ashton and Maya

He stood and inhaled, then walked a few more feet, stooped, and prodded a chunk of rabbit fur. “I’m definitely thinking something with more body parts,” I said. “Like a head.” He gave a snort of a laugh. “It’s probably around here somewhere, but I suppose you want the parts attached, too.

I need to get ready. Ash? Touch the food and I won't take you for a driving lesson tomorrow. Dad? Touch it and I'll make you take him for a driving lesson tomorrow." Dad backed away from the counter. Ash scowled. I laughed and continued upstairs.

Dad!" he shouted, loud enough to make my ears ring. "Dad! You need to get down here!" (Derek) Chloe held open the door and whispered to me, "I could say he's not always like this, but I'd be lying.

Mooooon!” said the Ogre. “Tranquility …” Then he pointed at the full moon. “Neil Armstrong walked in a sea of tranquility.” Then he added, “It’s made of cheese. But you have to take off the plastic before you put it on a burger.” Mikey sighed. “What’s his story?” the wraith asked. “He’s chocolate,” Mikey said.

With no chance to take off, I had to play my role, searching for the rendezvous spot, which gave me the excuse to look for an escape opportunity. Maybe a hole in the wall too small for Tori’s mom to follow me through or a precarious stack of boxes I could topple onto her head or an abandoned hammer I could brain her with. I’d never “brained” anyone in my life, but with Tori’s mom, I was willing to try.

I’d say I needed to find myself, if that didn’t sound like I was heading into the Himalayas, taking only a backpack stuffed with angst and clean underwear.

Was it a camp?" Daniel asked. Sean nodded. "A naturist camp." "Maya will feel right at home", Corey said from his spot on a wooden lawn chair. Daniel sputtered a laugh and Sean tried to hide his. "Naturist, not naturalist," I said. "It means nudist." Corey leaped up and spun. "You mean old, naked butts sat on those chairs?

Dont talk to the crazy kids. I longed to shout back that we weren't crazy. I'd mistaken her kid for a ghost, that's all.

I'm going to need to save you." "Excuse me? No one needs-" "I'm saving you, so shut up and be grateful.

Evan Handler is a man who’s looked into the abyss and laughed. His book, It’s Only Temporary, made me laugh along with him. He covers love, lust, showbiz, triumph, and despair – and he manages to be both funny and inspiring about all of it. It’s an important book that I think can help to spread goodness around the world. Something we desperately need.

Funny how an absence can feel like a presence, like that space practically glows with her outline and make me notice how she's not here.

Backup?" Tori said. "You mean he didn't need that?" "Apparently not," I murmured. Simon looked from her to me, confused, then understanding. "You guys thought..." "That if you didn't get your medicine in the next twenty-four hours, you'd be dead?" I said. "Not exactly, but close. You know, the old 'upping the ante with a fatal disease that needs medication' twist. Apparently, it still works." "Kind of a letdown, then, huh?" "No kidding. Here we were, expecting to find you minutes from death. Look at you, not even gasping." "All right, then. Emergency medical situation, take two." He leaped to his feet, staggered, keeled over, then lifted his head weakly. "Chloe? Is that you?" He coughed. "Do you have my insulin?" I placed it in his outstretched hand. "You saved my life," he said. "How can I ever repay you?" "Undying servitude sounds good. I like my eggs scrambled." He held up a piece of fruit. "Would you settle for a bruised apple?

Do you know something? I've got this funny feeling fate arranged for you to enter my life for the express purpose of tormenting me.

William James said, “When I search for my self, all I can find is a funny feeling at the back of my throat.

And they certainly wouldn’t take you along to a murder. That would be irresponsible parenting.

Here's a note to the parents of addicted children: choose your music carefully. Avoid Louis Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World", from the Polaroid or Kodak or whichever commercial, and the songs "Turn Around" and "Sunrise, Sunset" and - there are thousands more. Avoid Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time," and this one, Eric Clapton's song about his son. Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" sneaked up on me one time. The music doesn't have to be sentimental. Springsteen can be dangerous. John and Yoko. Bjork. Dylan. I become overwhelmed when I hear Nirvana. I want to scream like Kurt Cobain. I want to scream at him. Music isn't all that does it. There are millions of treacherous moments. Driving along Highway 1, I will see a peeling wave. Or I will reach the fork where two roads meet near Rancho Nicasio, where we veered to the left in carpool. A shooting star on a still night at the crest of Olema Hill. With friends, I hear a good joke - one that Nic would appreciate. The kids do something funny or endearing. A story. A worn sweater. A movie. Feeling wind and looking up, riding my bike. A million moments.

Greek oracles were like living Ouija boards. They communicated with the gods rather than the dead. It’s funny the way people imagine making contact with the Devil via Ouija, but never with God. Will God not come if summoned?

You might want to pop your collar." "Hey if the biker doesn't pop his, I'm not popping mine. Also? We're thirty years past that fashion faux pas." "Yeah, but it still comes in handy when you're sporting a hickey." "What?" My hands flew to my neck, and I found the tender spot. "Shit. No, that's not-- I burned it. My hair wasn't cooperating, so I dragged out the curling iron." "Gabriel has a curling iron?" "No, I meant--Damn it." I rooted through my bag for concealer. "I'm sorry. If I'd noticed, I'd have hidden it." "I know." His lips twitched. "It is kinda funny, though, watching you guys scramble with excuses. Gabriel told me you weren't answering my calls because you forgot your phone in the car. Which is about as likely as you leaving your arm behind. He dried his hair so fast the back was sticking up. And then he scarfed down half the food I brought for lunch. I've never seen him eat like that." He smiled. "But I do appreciate he's being circumspect." "He's not going to wave it in your face." "No, but we are talking about Gabriel, who never goes out of his way to cushion anyone's feelings but yours. He's being very thoughtful. It's sweet. Just don't tell him I said that." "I won't." I finished applying the concealer. "Better?" "Yep." He leaned over for a better look and then stopped. "Is that a bite on your collarbone?" "Shit! No. Damn it. Ricky laughed as I frantically applied more makeup.

Danny’s Song” by Kenny Loggins “Reminder” by Mumford & Sons “Barton Hollow” by The Civil Wars “Like a Bridge Over Troubled Waters” by Simon and Garfunkel “I and Love and You” by The Avett Brothers “Make You Feel My Love” by Adele “Can’t Break Her Fall” by Matt Kearney  “Stillborn” by Black Label Society “Come On Get Higher” by Matt Nathanson “I Won’t Give Up” by Jason Mraz “This Girl” by City & Colour “My Funny Valentine” by Ella Fitzgerald “Dream a Little Dream of Me” by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong “Stormy Blues” by Billie Holiday “I would be Sad” by The Avett Brothers “Hello, I’m Delaware” by City & Colour “99 Problems” by Hugo (originally written and performed by Jay-Z) “It’s Time” by Imagine Dragons “Let It Be Me” by Ray LaMontagne “Rocketship” by Guster “Don’t Drink The Water” by Dave Matthews Band “Blackbird” by The Beatles

Ah!" said the doctor, in his most complacent manner, "here is the opportunity I have long been waiting for. I have often desired to test and taste the indian mode of cooking. What do you suppose this is?" holding up the dripping morsel. Unable to obtain the desired information, the doctor, whose naturally good appetite had been sensibly sharpened by his recent exercise á la quadrupède, set to with a will and ate heartily of the mysterious contents of the kettle. "What can this be?" again inquired the doctor. He was only satisfied on one point, that it was delicious - a dish fit for a king. Just then Gurrier, the half-breed, entered the lodge. He could solve the mystery, having spent years among the Indians. To him the doctor appealed for information. Fishing out a huge piece and attacking it with the voracity of a hungry wolf, he was not long in determining what the doctor had supped so heartily upon. His first words settled the mystery: "Why this is dog." I will not attempt to repeat the few but emphatic words uttered by the heartedly disgusted member of the medical fraternity as he rushed from the lodge.

Jazz was the opposite of everything Harry Anslinger believed in. It is improvised, and relaxed, and free-form. It follows its own rhythm. Worst of all, it is a mongrel music made up of European, Caribbean, and African echoes, all mating on American shores. To Anslinger, this was musical anarchy, and evidence of a recurrence of the primitive impulses that lurk in black people, waiting to emerge. “It sounded,” his internal memos said, “like the jungles in the dead of night.”94 Another memo warned that “unbelievably ancient indecent rites of the East Indies are resurrected”95 in this black man’s music. The lives of the jazzmen, he said, “reek of filth.”96 His agents reported back to him97 that “many among the jazzmen think they are playing magnificently when under the influence of marihuana but they are actually becoming hopelessly confused and playing horribly.” The Bureau believed that marijuana slowed down your perception of time98 dramatically, and this was why jazz music sounded so freakish—the musicians were literally living at a different, inhuman rhythm. “Music hath charms,”99 their memos say, “but not this music.” Indeed, Harry took jazz as yet more proof that marijuana drives people insane. For example, the song “That Funny Reefer Man”100 contains the line “Any time he gets a notion, he can walk across the ocean.” Harry’s agents warned: “He does think that.” Anslinger looked out over a scene filled with men like Charlie Parker,101 Louis Armstrong,102 and Thelonious Monk,103 and—as the journalist Larry Sloman recorded—he longed to see them all behind bars.104 He wrote to all the agents he had sent to follow them, and instructed: “Please prepare all cases in your jurisdiction105 involving musicians in violation of the marijuana laws. We will have a great national round-up arrest of all such persons on a single day. I will let you know what day.” His advice on drug raids to his men was always “Shoot first.”106 He reassured congressmen that his crackdown would affect not “the good musicians, but the jazz type.”107 But when Harry came for them, the jazz world would have one weapon that saved them: its absolute solidarity. Anslinger’s men could find almost no one among them who was willing to snitch,108 and whenever one of them was busted,109 they all chipped in to bail him out.

What made me fall the hardest for someone in the past was the fact that she made no attempt to hide her flaws. Instead, she would play with them and even flaunt them in a way that magically drew me closer. If she was late, she’d come up with a funny reason why. If her place was dirty, it was so I could watch her clean in front of me. She would often tease me and keep me on my toes. Too many women worry about being perceived as high maintenance, but as Allison Armstrong says: ‘It’s okay to be high maintenance as long as you’re high performance!’ And she was and I loved her, even though she was the most difficult woman I ever dated.

Before I met your father I thought that love and peace would change the whole world, but looking into your eyes, I knew all I had to do was let you be whoever it was that you wanted to be, and to love you, and that would be the best and closest thing I could ever do to change the world for the better. "You are going to be brilliant," I told you. "You are going to be clever, and funny. Brave and strong. You're going to be a feminist, and a peace campaigner and a dancer. And one day you are going to be a mother yourself. You are going to fall in love and have adventures and do things I can't even imagine. You, little Claire Armstrong, you are going to be the most wonderful woman, and you are going to have the most amazing life: a life that no one will ever forget.

Your friends aren’t going to find you,” Daniel said. “And the nights are getting cold. It’ll be a race between hypothermia and dehydration, see which kills you first.” We paused a moment, letting that sink in, then I said, “Are you sure you don’t want to talk to us?” Moreno rolled his eyes, still looking amused. “He’ll think it’s a lot less funny by morning,” I said to Daniel. “We’ll come back then, see if he’s changed his mind.

Maya’s point is that Hayley, Nicole, and Serena shared common characteristics, which probably means they’re the same type, and it has something to do with singing and swimming.” “And being pretty,” Hayley said. “That’s not a superpower,” Sam muttered. Hayley turned to her. “No? How many times have you gotten into movies for free because you’re a tough warrior chick?” “What about me?” Corey said. “What’s my superpower?” Silence fell. “Oh, come on. I’m good at a lot of stuff. Right?” More silence. “You’re cute,” Hayley said. “Well, cute enough.” “Fun to be around,” I offered. “So I’m…a clown?” “At least you’re a cute clown,” Hayley said. “Not a scary one.” “You’re a good fighter,” Daniel said. “And you’re a good drinker,” Hayley added. “You can hold your liquor better than anyone I know.” “Uh-huh,” Corey said. “So Maya will grow up to be an amazing healer who can change into a killer cat. Daniel and Sam will roam the country hunting criminals and demons. Hayley and Nicole will divide their time between recording platinum albums and winning gold medals in swimming. And me? I’ll be the cute, funny guy sitting at the bar, hoping for a good brawl to break out.” “In other words, exactly where you were already headed,” Hayley said. We all laughed at that, even Corey. We had to. For now, this was the best way to deal with it. Tease. Poke fun. As if we were comparing Halloween costumes. Look, I’m a superhero. Yeah? Well, so am I. “I’m sure you have powers,” I said. “You’re just a late bloomer.” “Thanks…I think.

So Maya will grow up to be an amazing healer who can change into a killer cat. Daniel and Sam will roam the country hunting criminals and demons. Hayley and Nicole will divide their time between recording platinum albums and winning gold medals in swimming. And me? I’ll be the cute, funny guy sitting at the bar, hoping for a good brawl to break out.” “In other words, exactly where you were already headed,” Hayley said. We all laughed at that, even Corey.

Right." A soft, choked laugh. "Kind of ruins the dramatic effect if I'm storming off in the wrong direction, doesn't it?

I started rubbing my temples and she suggested I don't really get headaches. It just hurts me to think.

After this, he'd probably be going to zoos, climbing the enclosure, saying, 'Here, watch this...' Famous last words, as yet another unfit human is removed from the gene pool.

The twins had returned. "Goth Barbie and Ken, are you stopping in for a visit?" Fen asked as he came to his feet. "Just passing by?" "Fen," Laurie cautioned him. "No, it's fine. Wolf-boy felt abandoned," Reyna said. "We had a puppy once that misbehaved when we left it alone, and the trainer suggested a crate. Do we need a crate?" "Funny." Fen bared his teeth at her. Ray stepped up beside his twin. Baldwin snorted in laughter, earning a dirty look from Fen and a smile from Reyna. "What?" he said. "It was funny." When Fen didn't crack a smile, Baldwin shrugged. "I thought it was funny.

You think you’re better than everyone else. You think the rules don’t apply to you. You breeze into town, working your charm on all the girls, then walk away when you realize they aren’t the skin-walker you’re looking for. You find her”--Sam pointed at me--“and you use her, too, but apparently, she’s forgiven you. Maya’s smart and she’s sensible, so maybe I’m trying to figure out why the hell she’s with you when there are great guys like…” She stumbled, as if searching for a name. “Like Brendan. You’ve got some kind of hold over her, and I don’t like it.” Rafe leaned over and whispered. “It’s a love spell I picked up from a witch over in Nanaimo. But don’t tell Maya.” “You think you’re funny.” “No, I think you have your own issue with me and I think I know what it is. But it has nothing to do with me personally, so I’m going to try not to take it personally. And, while I might be enjoying this--” He lifted his hand, which was still clasping mine. “I know it’s as temporary as a love spell. Give it a few hours and she’ll hate me again.” “Hate’s a strong word,” I said. “Strong emotion is better than indifference.” He grinned at me, then looked at the others. “Now, if we can stop bickering for a few minutes, I’ll tell you my plan.” His gaze moved to Sam. “Which I’m sure Maya and Daniel will change, if they don’t outright reject it, and I’m fine with that.

You’ve got some kind of hold over her, and I don’t like it.” Rafe leaned over and whispered. “It’s a love spell I picked up from a witch over in Nanaimo. But don’t tell Maya.” “You think you’re funny.” “No, I think you have your own issue with me and I think I know what it is. But it has nothing to do with me personally, so I’m going to try not to take it personally.

You’ve got some kind of hold over her, and I don’t like it.” Rafe leaned over and whispered. “It’s a love spell I picked up from a witch over in Nanaimo. But don’t tell Maya.” “You think you’re funny.” “No, I think you have your own issue with me and I think I know what it is. But it has nothing to do with me personally, so I’m going to try not to take it personally. And, while I might be enjoying this--” He lifted his hand, which was still clasping mine. “I know it’s as temporary as a love spell. Give it a few hours and she’ll hate me again.” “Hate’s a strong word,” I said. “Strong emotion is better than indifference.” He grinned at me, then looked at the others. “Now, if we can stop bickering for a few minutes, I’ll tell you my plan.

Enigma!" I call, adding a "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!" because obviously it's the universal language for feline summoning. And maybe it is -- no sooner do I croon that magic phrase than I hear an answering meow.

She was attracted to the way his mind worked, his quick, easy, funny conversation, his split-second responses. Something clicked between them: that feeling that says, We’re going to matter in each other’s lives.

Yes, I know your reputation,” he continued. “So when we started heating up, I knew something might be wrong. That’s why I asked if you’d been drinking. Even when you said no, I wasn’t sure, but, hell, of course I wanted to think you were just that into me.” Definitely a valid point. “And, let’s be totally honest. If a guy gives a girl a roofie, he’s not looking for a make-out session. If my hands weren’t wandering by that point, they weren’t going to.” He shifted on the branch. “I wish I could prove I didn’t do it, Maya, but I can’t. I can only say that it doesn’t make sense. I’d risk getting the crap beat out of me by Daniel, becoming a total social outcast, and maybe even getting arrested and losing Annie. As much as I like you, one make-out session isn’t worth that. And I do like you, meaning one make-out session definitely isn’t worth that if it’d be the last one I’d ever get.” He looked at me, like he was expecting to see something in my face, and when he didn’t, he frowned. “I do like you, Maya. You get that, right?” “Why?” His frown deepened. “Why what?” “Why do you like me?” He laughed. “Do you want a list? Smart, pretty, funny--” “That’s not what I--” I shook my head. “Never mind.

I do like you, Maya. You get that, right?” “Why?” His frown deepened. “Why what?” “Why do you like me?” He laughed. “Do you want a list? Smart, pretty, funny--” “That’s not what I--” I shook my head. “Never mind.