Vegetarian Humor Quotes

Animals are my friends...and I don't eat my friends.

I'm not a vegetarian because I love animals, I'm a vegetarian because I hate plants.

You're thinking I'm one of those wise-ass California vegetarians who is going to tell you that eating a few strips of bacon is bad for your health. I'm not. I say its a free country and you should be able to kill yourself at any rate you choose, as long as your cold dead body is not blocking my driveway.

I'm not a vegetarian! I'm a dessertarian!

He soon acquired the forlorn look that one sees in vegetarians.

The cucumber and the tomato are both fruit; the avocado is a nut. To assist with the dietary requirements of vegetarians, on the first Tuesday of the month a chicken is officially a vegetable.

Hannah is a vegetarian; Trace is a cattle rancher. Definitely, not a match made in heaven. “A horse with a sense of humor. Was that possible?

You can't possibly ask me to go without having some dinner. It's absurd. I never go without my dinner. No one ever does, except vegetarians and people like that.

Vegetarians are cool. All I eat are vegetarians--except for the occasional mountain lion steak.

If you can find one good thing to say about her I'll turn vegetarian!

Are you a vegetarian?' I ask, based on the evidence in front of me. She nods. 'Why?' 'Because I have this theory that when we die, every animal that we've eaten has a chance at eating us back. So if you're a carnivore and you add up all the animals you've eaten--well, that's a long time in purgatory, being chewed.' 'Really?' She laughs. 'No. I'm just sick of the question. I mean, I'm a vegetarian because I think it's wrong to eat other sentient creatures. And it sucks for the environment.

Expecting the world to treat you fairly because you are a good person is a little like expecting the bull not to attack you because you are a vegetarian.

We were restless for ages...After a while I heard an owl hooting and calmed myself by thinking of it flying over the dark fields – and then I remembered it would be pouncing on mice. I love owls, but I wish God had made them vegetarian.

I was eating a steak at a local restaurant last night, when a random woman said: "Y'know, you'd be much better off being a vegetarian." "Are you crazy?" I said, "The cow was a vegetarian and look what happened to it!

How much intelligence does it take to sneak up on a leaf?

Despite the fact that an Indonesian island chicken has probably had a much more natural life than one raised on a battery farm in England, people who wouldn't think twice about buying something oven-ready become much more upset about a chicken that they've been on a boat with, so there is probably buried in the Western psyche a deep taboo about eating anything you've been introduced to socially.

Leandros's favorite place had turned out not to be vegetarian, but vegan, which was for people who preferred their suicide slow.

All right," she said in a low, determined voice. 'I'll go along with this. But you are not, under any circumstances, to refer to me again as 'the future Mrs. Bobby Tom,' do you understand? Because if you say that just once, just once, I will personally tell the entire world that our engagement is a fraud. Furthermore, I will announce that you are-are-" Her mouth opened and closed, She's stared out strong, but now she couldn't think of anything terrible enough to throw at him. An ax murderer?" he offered helpfully. When she didn't reply, he tried again. " A vegetarian?" It came to her in a flash. "Impotent!

When it came down to it, he just wasn't that engaged. You had to be engaged to be a vegetarian; you had to be engaged to sing "Both Sides Now" with your eyes closed; when it came down to it, you had to be engaged to be a mother.

Berharap hidup memperlakukanmu dengan baik karena kamu orang baik, itu sama konyolnya seperti berharap banteng takkan menandukmu karena kamu vegetarian

I'd be vegetarian if bacon grew on trees

He had the look of a frustrated tiger whose personal physician had recommended a strict vegetarian diet.

Most vegetarians look so much like the food they eat that they can be classified as cannibals.

Presenting a rational argument to a person who has forsaken the use of reason is like asking a vegetarian to eat a cheeseburger.

Sometimes I like to compare people who don't like women to vegetarians." "Interesting analogy, and I do like the way your mind works, so lay it on me." He opened the door and waved her in. "If God had meant for people to be vegetarians, a good steak wouldn't taste so divine. Following that line of thinking, neither would a woman.

Goodwill to Spazzy up in gerbil heaven. Sorry sorry sorry. I stopped eating meat the day of the massacre, as penance for Spazzy. I've been a vegetarian since age six, all for the love of a gerbil.

Will you dance for me? Let your breasts roam for a moment -- I need to see how they dance.' 'Okay.' She danced, and as she danced, she tried to think of the most delicious salads she could imagine -- with artichokes and sundried tomato and blue cheese dressing, and beets, lots of beets.

I've known humans, and I know beasts. The beast is better. It is unpretentious. It kills for food. Humans do 'cause they're just not any good.

An interesting book about possums. Animals have so much wisdom," Dr. Tuttle paused. "I hope you're not a vegetarian," she said, lowering her glasses. "I'm not." "That's a relief.

Just think how it would look if a reader walked into a café you'd recommended and found it taken over by vegetarians.

When I asked her yesterday evening by text message, she only told me very briefly that she’s “quite low-maintenance” when it comes to food. However, I did remember that she had told me she eats mostly vegetarian but isn’t very dogmatic about it. I’m glad to know that, because this way I was able to refrain from roasting a goose. Or cooking a suckling pig. Or half a cow.

My mind blurs to a ripple of pleasure when his soft, full lips at last make contact with mine. He starts to deepen the kiss, but pauses, intent on the glass behind me. “You gotta be kidding.” I glance over my shoulder. Outside, Morpheus hangs on the glass in moth form, level with my head, glaring at us with his bulbous gaze. Even without a face, his smugness is apparent. His favorite pastime is interrupting Jeb’s romantic moments. I try not to laugh, but can’t help myself. “Cocky son of a bug.” Jeb sets me on the floor and draws the dropcloth tighter around me. A barn owl swoops from the sky and skims the glass. Morpheus launches off in a tizzy, trying to outrun the bird. Now Jeb’s the one laughing. I slap his shoulder. “Hey, that’s not funny.” “Ah, he’ll be okay.” Jeb raises an eyebrow, watching the aerial pursuit taking place outside the glass. “It’s a new genus of vegetarian owls. They’re only in it for the chase. Besides, Morphie-boy can change to his other form anytime he wants.”

Sitting up, Jocelyn rolled her head from side to side. “Been better.” “Heard you’re a doctor now.” She grabbed the thermometer. “Yes, a veterinarian.” Placing her fist on her ample hip, Mia scoffed, “You go to that fancy school in Washington State and now you don’t eat meat?” “Good Lord! I’m not a vegetarian—

A little boy, he can play like he's a fireman or a cop--although fewer and fewer are pretending to be cops, thank God--or a deep-sea diver or a quarterback or a spaceman or a rock 'n roll star or a cowboy, or anything else glamorous and exciting (Author's note: What about a novelist, Jellybean?), and although chances are by the time he's in high school he'll get channeled into safer, duller ambitions, the great truth is, he can be any of those things, realize any of those fantasies, if he has the strength, nerve and sincere desire...But little girls? Podner, you know that story as well as me. Give 'em doll babies, tea sets and toy stoves. And if they show a hankering for more bodacious playthings, call 'em tomboy, humor 'em for a few years and then slip 'em the bad news...And the reality is, we got about as much chance of growing up to be cowgirls as Eskimos have got being vegetarians.

Killed a policeman? How Vegetarian! Well, I suppose it was, so long as they didn't eat him.

Mark Twain said that quitting smoking is among the easiest things one can do; he did it all the time. I would add vegetarianism to the list of easy things.

“You’re wearing your Seduction Hat. Why am I not surprised?” He offers a pirate’s smile. “Did you notice . . . I’ve a new embellishment?” He makes a show of adjusting an owl’s tail feather in the band. I bite back a giggle. “Vegetarian barn owl, I presume?” “Won’t be bothering me again for some time.” “I can guarantee it’s not the only one out there.” He loops my arm through his. “Good. I’m always up for a worthy chase.”

That night at the Brooklyn party, I was playing the girl who was in style, the girl a man like Nick wants: the Cool Girl. Men always say that as the defining compliment, don’t they? She’s a cool girl. Being the Cool Girl means I am a hot, brilliant, funny woman who adores football, poker, dirty jokes, and burping, who plays video games, drinks cheap beer, loves threesomes and anal sex, and jams hot dogs and hamburgers into her mouth like she’s hosting the world’s biggest culinary gang bang while somehow maintaining a size 2, because Cool Girls are above all hot. Hot and understanding. Cool Girls never get angry; they only smile in a chagrined, loving manner and let their men do whatever they want. Go ahead, shit on me, I don’t mind, I’m the Cool Girl. Men actually think this girl exists. Maybe they’re fooled because so many women are willing to pretend to be this girl. For a long time Cool Girl offended me. I used to see men—friends, coworkers, strangers—giddy over these awful pretender women, and I’d want to sit these men down and calmly say: You are not dating a woman, you are dating a woman who has watched too many movies written by socially awkward men who’d like to believe that this kind of woman exists and might kiss them. I’d want to grab the poor guy by his lapels or messenger bag and say: The bitch doesn’t really love chili dogs that much—no one loves chili dogs that much! And the Cool Girls are even more pathetic: They’re not even pretending to be the woman they want to be, they’re pretending to be the woman a man wants them to be. Oh, and if you’re not a Cool Girl, I beg you not to believe that your man doesn’t want the Cool Girl. It may be a slightly different version—maybe he’s a vegetarian, so Cool Girl loves seitan and is great with dogs; or maybe he’s a hipster artist, so Cool Girl is a tattooed, bespectacled nerd who loves comics. There are variations to the window dressing, but believe me, he wants Cool Girl, who is basically the girl who likes every fucking thing he likes and doesn’t ever complain. (How do you know you’re not Cool Girl? Because he says things like: “I like strong women.” If he says that to you, he will at some point fuck someone else. Because “I like strong women” is code for “I hate strong women.”) I waited patiently—years—for the pendulum to swing the other way, for men to start reading Jane Austen, learn how to knit, pretend to love cosmos, organize scrapbook parties, and make out with each other while we leer. And then we’d say, Yeah, he’s a Cool Guy. But it never happened. Instead, women across the nation colluded in our degradation! Pretty soon Cool Girl became the standard girl. Men believed she existed—she wasn’t just a dreamgirl one in a million. Every girl was supposed to be this girl, and if you weren’t, then there was something wrong with you. But it’s tempting to be Cool Girl. For someone like me, who likes to win, it’s tempting to want to be the girl every guy wants. When I met Nick, I knew immediately that was what he wanted, and for him, I guess I was willing to try. I will accept my portion of blame. The thing is, I was crazy about him at first. I found him perversely exotic, a good ole Missouri boy. He was so damn nice to be around. He teased things out in me that I didn’t know existed: a lightness, a humor, an ease. It was as if he hollowed me out and filled me with feathers. He helped me be Cool

As I'm sure you know, whenever you are examining someone else's belongings, you are bound to learn many interesting things about the person of which you were not previously aware... I recently looked in the refrigerator of one of my enemies and learned she was a vegetarian, or at least pretending to be one, or had a vegetarian visiting her for a few days.

Smart, yet unpretentious. Tough enough to stand up to him, yet Zen-like enough to rise above turmoil. Well-educated and independent, yet ready to make accommodations for him and a family. Down-to-earth, but with a touch of the ethereal. Savvy enough to know how to manage him, but secure enough to not always need to. And it wouldn’t hurt to be a beautiful, lanky blonde with an easygoing sense of humor who liked organic vegetarian food.

Which is why, ultimately, we need to flame the place, Roz. And it's also why we should be eating more meat as a species. Each new vegetarian recipe Mankind allows is a recipe for disaster.' 'That sentence would be brilliantly funny, Nick. If it weren't also terrifyingly true.' 'I know, Roz. If only I could allow myself to appreciate the stark humor of it. Yet the reality is, these vegetarian fast-food outlets are the wild west of the modern convenience snack. And we've only just begun to realize the full implications of messing about with supposedly "healthy" ingredients that Mankind can neither taste nor understand.

It is now time to face the fact that English is a crazy language — the most loopy and wiggy of all tongues. In what other language do people drive in a parkway and park in a driveway? In what other language do people play at a recital and recite at a play? Why does night fall but never break and day break but never fall? Why is it that when we transport something by car, it’s called a shipment, but when we transport something by ship, it’s called cargo? Why does a man get a hernia and a woman a hysterectomy? Why do we pack suits in a garment bag and garments in a suitcase? Why do privates eat in the general mess and generals eat in the private mess? Why do we call it newsprint when it contains no printing but when we put print on it, we call it a newspaper? Why are people who ride motorcycles called bikers and people who ride bikes called cyclists? Why — in our crazy language — can your nose run and your feet smell?Language is like the air we breathe. It’s invisible, inescapable, indispensable, and we take it for granted. But, when we take the time to step back and listen to the sounds that escape from the holes in people’s faces and to explore the paradoxes and vagaries of English, we find that hot dogs can be cold, darkrooms can be lit, homework can be done in school, nightmares can take place in broad daylight while morning sickness and daydreaming can take place at night, tomboys are girls and midwives can be men, hours — especially happy hours and rush hours — often last longer than sixty minutes, quicksand works very slowly, boxing rings are square, silverware and glasses can be made of plastic and tablecloths of paper, most telephones are dialed by being punched (or pushed?), and most bathrooms don’t have any baths in them. In fact, a dog can go to the bathroom under a tree —no bath, no room; it’s still going to the bathroom. And doesn’t it seem a little bizarre that we go to the bathroom in order to go to the bathroom? Why is it that a woman can man a station but a man can’t woman one, that a man can father a movement but a woman can’t mother one, and that a king rules a kingdom but a queen doesn’t rule a queendom? How did all those Renaissance men reproduce when there don’t seem to have been any Renaissance women? Sometimes you have to believe that all English speakers should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane: In what other language do they call the third hand on the clock the second hand? Why do they call them apartments when they’re all together? Why do we call them buildings, when they’re already built? Why it is called a TV set when you get only one? Why is phonetic not spelled phonetically? Why is it so hard to remember how to spell mnemonic? Why doesn’t onomatopoeia sound like what it is? Why is the word abbreviation so long? Why is diminutive so undiminutive? Why does the word monosyllabic consist of five syllables? Why is there no synonym for synonym or thesaurus? And why, pray tell, does lisp have an s in it? If adults commit adultery, do infants commit infantry? If olive oil is made from olives, what do they make baby oil from? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian consume? If pro and con are opposites, is congress the opposite of progress? ...

Vegetarians.” Cookie muttered something under his breath. “I ain’t cooking no tofu. I’ll quit first.” “Fine by me. You cook what you like. I just wanted you to know.” “Vegetarians.” Cookie washed his hands, then attacked the lettuce. Frank walked into the kitchen. “Everything’s all set, boss. Tents, saddles, supplies. Cookie’s wagon is loaded, except for the fresh stuff. We have a schedule set up. You’ll get a delivery every afternoon.” Zane nodded. “You get a look at the folks?” His second in command did his best to keep his expression neutral, but Zane saw the corner of Frank’s mouth twitch. “You mean the fact that you’ve got to deal with Maya’s mouth, some old ladies and a couple of kids?” Cookie picked up a lethal-looking knife, then reached for several tomatoes. “You left out the good part, Zane. Tell him about the damn nut eaters.” When Frank looked confused, Zane shrugged. “Vegetarians.” This time Frank’s entire mouth jerked, but he controlled his humor. “Sounds interesting.” “Tits are interesting, boy,” Cookie growled. “Vegetarians are just plain stupid. If people want to eat leaves and grubs, then they should go live in the forest. Root around with those ugly truffle pigs and get away from my table.” “What time is supper?” Zane asked. Cookie snarled something under his breath, then walked to the back door and stuck his head out. “Billy, you got that there barbecue ready yet, boy?” “Yes, sir. Coals are hot and gray. You wanted them gray, didn’t you, Cookie?” “What color gray?” There was a pause. “Sort of medium.” “Huh.” Cookie closed the back door and grinned at Zane. “I screw with him because he makes it so easy.

Humans as a whole are but an unwholesome hole with a sorry ass. In short, a**holes.

Strict Vegetarian – One who doesn’t let his daughter date until she is 25

Vegan – Someone who does not eat or drink any animal products, wear any animal products, look at pictures of animals, watch television shows with animals on them, or dream about animals

Mahatma Gandhi   Patricia Van Winkle:  I understand you were a passionate vegetarian.   Mahatma Gandhi:  Being an Indian and vegetarian is not a big a deal.  There must be a gazillion of us.  Of course most of us have a loving respect for all animals.  And many of us believe in reincarnation.  You never know -- that cow I see on the street could have been my Grandma Nana in another lifetime.  So when I saw someone eating meat, I’d get extremely pissed off and just want to punch their lights out.  Then I’d tell myself “Chill, Mohandas.  You’re supposed to be a non-violent pacifist.

Socrates   Patricia Van Winkle: How did you get started on a vegetarian diet?   Socrates: Does the man choose a diet or does a diet choose the man?   Van Winkle:  Hmm. . . OK.  So you say that people are closely linked to vegetables.  Can you elaborate?   Socrates:  A human being in reality is just a human bean.   Van Winkle:  I’m not quite following you.  How so?   Socrates:  If you take away its leg, a legume is just u and me.   Van Winkle:  Alright.  I think I see where you’re going with that.  And how would you say a vegetarian diet affected you?   Socrates:  If you eat a meal of meat, you will be happy for 30 minutes.  If you eat a meal of vegetables you will be happy for 30 years.  (Pause) Unless some shithead gives you hemlock and tells you it’s a V8.

In such societies it is common for ordinary people to seek out celibate spiritual leaders for marriage, love and sometimes sexual guidance. This strikes me as a particularly stupid kind of folly. Nobody ever asks a vegetarian for a recommendation for a steak house

Let’s go inside,” his father said, standing. “We stay out much longer, one of us is going to get misty and say, ‘Wanna play catch?’ ” Myron bit off a laugh and followed him inside. Mom came home not long after that, lugging two bags of food as though they were stone tablets. “Everybody hungry?” she called out. “Starving,” Dad said. “I’m so hungry I could eat a vegetarian.” “Very funny, Al.” “Or even your cooking …” “Ha-ha,” Mom said. “… though I’d prefer the vegetarian.” “Stop it, Al, I’m going to phlegm up, you keep making me laugh like this.” Mom dropped the bags onto the kitchen counter. “See, Myron? It’s a good thing your mother is shallow.” “Shallow?” Myron asked. “If I judged a man on brains or sense of humor,” Mom continued, “you’d have never been born.” “Right-o,” Dad said with a hearty smile. “But one look at your old man in a bathing suit and whammo—all mine.” “Oh please,” Mom said. “Yes,” Myron said. “Please.” They

I love animals, especially with barbeque sauce.

The wildest lion becomes tame in the presence of the lioness.

I'm a sort of like post-modern vegetarian, I eat meat........Ironically.

They fed him, but such as food is on this stinking vegetarian planet. Oh man, I could kill for some Kentucky Fried Chicken right now! With honey mustard and potato salad!

No Throat So Deep by Stewart Stafford “I'd like you to meet Mrs Koch-Gobbelaar,” I weighed up the overture long and hard, "I'm licking my lips without drool!" I replied, “Amazeballs!” he said, “Tonight, you'll meet.” We came early, but she didn’t take umbrage, “Spread out all over my ballroom,” she said, She told us how the rooms were hanging, Up the elevator shaft to the top floor and left. Mrs Koch-Gobbelaar made vegetarian claims, But we found her smuggled stash of beef jerky, Her ex-husband split and became a eunuch, He died bone-tired with limp alibis on his urn. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.

My microscope got a waitress fired because she referred to a tomato as a vegetable. 'It's a fruit! Learn your taxonomy, bitch!

But what’s Mock Turtle about?” inquired Harriet. On this point the authors were for the most part vague; but a young man who wrote humorous magazine stories, and could therefore afford to be wide-minded about novels, said he had read it and thought it rather interesting, only a bit long. It was about a swimming instructor at a watering-place, who had contracted such an unfortunate anti-nudity complex through watching so many bathing-beauties that it completely inhibited all his natural emotions. So he got a job on a whaler and fell in love at first sight with an Eskimo, because she was such a beautiful bundle of garments. So he married her and brought her back to live in a suburb, where she fell in love with a vegetarian nudist. So then the husband went slightly mad and contracted a complex about giant turtles, and spent all his spare time staring into the turtle-tank at the Aquarium, and watching the strange, slow monsters swimming significantly round in their encasing shells. But of course a lot of things came into it—it was one of those books that reflect the author’s reactions to Things in General.

I was not encouraged, generally, to go grocery shopping with Mom, because Pop knew that if you sent your sons to the grocery store too much, they might learn how to locate water chestnuts, which could lead down a dark path toward vegetarian stir-fry and the wearing of aprons and eventually marrying someone named Cecil.

The next time you encounter a vegan chowing down on a freshly picked salad, understand that, from the salad’s point of view, this is a crime against nature.

She once told the entire class that her dog, one of those little living-accessory dogs that spends most of its life in a pleather handbag, hung itself by slipping through the beams of her deck after securing the other end of the leash beneath one of the patio chairs. She said it was proof that even animals could think and feel. I think she wanted us to become vegetarians.

If you want to remove all the negativity, reduce food intake; go for more vegetarianism and fruitarianism. Even if you live between vegetarianism and fruitarianism, that is enough.

Mano širdis ėmė daužytis taip, tarsi po ja būtų vegetaro skrandis, virškinantis keptą paršelį su litru rakijos