Witty Funny Quotes

Well, don't expect us to be too impressed. We just saw Finnick Odair in his underwear.

I’m no cactus expert, but I know a prick when I see one.

Everyone has a sense of humor. If you don't laugh at jokes, you probably laugh at opinions.

A pause followed my greeting. Then “We’re watching you ” whispered the voice on the other end. “Yeah? Did you see what I did with my keys? ” Silence. Then dial tone. These younger demons. So easily discouraged.

Shouldn't someone give a pep talk or something?' Minho asked... "Go ahead," Newt replied. Minho nodded and faced the crowd. 'Be careful,' he said dryly. 'Don't die.' Thomas would have laughed if he could, but he was too scared for it to come out. 'Great. We're all bloody inspired,' Newt answered.

Oh yes? Can you identify yourself? -Certainly. I'd know me anywhere.

If an apology is followed by an excuse or a reason, it means they are going to commit same mistake again they just apologized for.

Nothing so fortifies a friendship as a belief on the part of one friend that he is superior to the other.

Never met such a Gorgon . . . I don't really know what a Gorgon is like, but I am quite sure that Lady Bracknell is one. In any case, she is a monster, without being a myth, which is rather unfair.

You know, you're rather amusingly wrong.

Whenever I think of something but can't think of what it was I was thinking of, I can't stop thinking until I think I'm thinking of it again. I think I think too much.

-"He loved her...It was noble of him. It was beautiful." -"It was stupid.

Laurence the last time I saw something like you I flushed it away.

Intelligence is more important than strength, that is why earth is ruled by men and not by animals.

So just let me deal with it, I can be emotionally flawed and still love you all at the same time. I’m a great multitasker.

Jason smiled and took a sip of his coke before responding. “I’m not sure how to reply to that. I thought about just giving you a nasty look. But I see you already have one.

The advantage of growing up with siblings is that you become very good at fractions.

How dare you. Do you have any idea who I am?” Laurence whined. “I’m no cactus expert, but I know a prick when I see one.

I got the job as a Bingo host and did better than they imagined. Never before had they had an emcee so affable and funny, so enthusiastic to give away prizes, or so quick to make a tumor joke after calling out 'B-9'".

She’s like a cross between an onion and donkey,” Farah said. “Why?” Jason and Connor asked simultaneously. “Cause she’s a piece of ass that will bring a tear to your eye.” Farah laughed.

Writers don't get mad they get even in their novels.

When people are missing out in their choices and cannot make a distinction between cheery, witty, funny, filthy or scurrilous walks of life, they will have a hard time to inhabit a pleasing and enriching life; and to integrate into a world of understanding and recognition. ("Love lying fallow " )

And it's really very difficult to kill someone when all your inner instincts would oblige you to take off your hat first!

They keep saying that beautiful is something a girl needs to be. But honestly? Forget that. Don’t be beautiful. Be angry, be intelligent, be witty, be klutzy, be interesting, be funny, be adventurous, be crazy, be talented - there are an eternity of other things to be other than beautiful. And what is beautiful anyway but a set of letters strung together to make a word? Be your own definition of amazing, always. That is so much more important than anything beautiful, ever.

I meditate fourteen hours a day—two hours out of bed and twelve hours in bed. The mortals call it sleeping, but the enlightened are awake. It’s just the body that sleeps.

When you are angry try your best to go to sleep, it keeps you away from speaking, writing and thinking while you are angry.

Memories make you sentimental, experiences make you smart.

The revelation that I’m destined to meet many virgins from the East and the promise of limitless love they hold in their bosoms gives me strength, fortitude, and tenacity—and the wisdom to know that all three are synonyms.

I hope that the kind reader recognises this as a despairing attempt at humour.

Life is too fleet for onomatopoeia.

Warm, aquamarine eyes stared into him—providing a lifeline to shore. And he wondered if she was really the one who needed saving . . .

Perhaps it is no wonder that the women were first at the Cradle and last at the Cross. They had never known a man like this Man - there never has been such another. A prophet and teacher who never nagged at them, never flattered or coaxed or patronised; who never made arch jokes about them, never treated them either as "The women, God help us!" or "The ladies, God bless them!"; who rebuked without querulousness and praised without condescension; who took their questions and arguments seriously; who never mapped out their sphere for them, never urged them to be feminine or jeered at them for being female; who had no axe to grind and no uneasy male dignity to defend; who took them as he found them and was completely unself-conscious. There is no act, no sermon, no parable in the whole Gospel that borrows its pungency from female perversity; nobody could possibly guess from the words and deeds of Jesus that there was anything "funny" about woman's nature.

I can see why they named that ballet the Nutcracker. It’s gotta hurt having ‘em crushed in something that tight.

You should praise, criticize and flirt with people right to their face, only then it will make a difference.

Luckily the smoke raised the alarm and everyone fled we don’t think any innocent people died. Although when the cavern collapsed two guards were crushed.” “Yeah I would have been disappointed too.” Jason grinned, his grin was soon wiped off his face when he noticed Dexter’s face change and disapproval of his joke.

Never take advice about never taking advice. That is an old vice of men - to dish it out without being able to take it - the blind leading the blind into more blindness.

Yes, I kidnapped that Lindberg baby.

You see, writers traveling to Southeast Asia visit indigenous communities. No writing quest will be complete without some cross-cultural comparisons. This exercise is a decisive moment in every author’s life. Equate it to a photographer meeting his first old man with a wrinkled face or the old lady with heavy earrings dangling from her earlobes.

A funny person is funny only for so long, but a wit can sit down and go on being spellbinding forever. One is not meant to laugh. One stays quiet and marvels. Spontaneously witty talk is without question the most fascinating entertainment there is.

Finnik?” I say. “Maybe some pants?”
He looks down at his legs as if noticing them for the first time. Then he whips of his hospital gown, leaving him in just is underwear. “Why? Do you find this”-he strikes a ridiculously proactive pose-“distracting?”
I can’t help laughing because it’s funny, and it’s extra funny because Boggs looks so uncomfortable, and I’m happy because Finnik actually sounds like the guy I met at the Quarter Quell.
“I’m only human, Odair.” I get in before the elevator doors close. “Sorry,” I say to Boggs.
“Don’t be. I thought you… handled that well,” He says. “Better than my having to arrest him, anyway.”
 
Fulvia Cardew hustles over an makes a sound of frustration when she sees my clean face. “All that hard work, down the drain. I’m not blaming you, Katniss. It’s just that very few people are born with camera-ready faces. Like him.” She snags Gale, who’s in a conversation with Plutarch, and spins him towards us. “Isn’t he handsome?”
Gale does look stricking in the uniform, I guess. But the question just embarrasses us both Given our history. I’m trying to think of a witty comeback when Boggs says brusquely, “Well don’t expect us to be too impressed. We just saw Finnick Odair in his underwear.

I want my brain to slide back into the slot it was meant to be in, rest there the way it did before the fall of last year, back when I was young, witty, and my teachers said I had incredible promise.

He forced himself forward trying to seem innocent without acting like someone who was guilty who was trying to act innocent.

First rule of thievery,' Eli said, grinning, 'only run if you're not coming back.' (...) 'First rule of thievery, never use the same entrance twice.' Miranda rolled her eyes. 'How many 'first rules' of thievery do you have?' 'When one mistake can mean your head on a pike, every rule's a first rule,' Eli said cheerfully.

Who knew Demon Child would have such a normal name? I expected something exotic like Serena or Destiny or the Evil One That Comes in the Night to Make Us Chilly.

At once, it’s clear I cannot gush. We try me playing cocky, but I just don’t have the arrogance. Apparently, I’m too “vulnerable” for ferocity. I’m not witty. Funny. Sexy. Or mysterious By the end of the session, I am no one at all.

I don't understand this irony - valuable things like cars, gold, diamond are made up of hard materials but most valuable things like money, contracts and books are made up of soft paper.

(About a cookbook...) - What about this one? Maids of Honor? - Weeelll, they starts OUT as Maids of Honor...but they ends up Tarts.

Majority wins, but majority is not necessarily right and sometimes majority is awfully wrong.

I chase goals, not girls.

I don't use big words to show off because it's ostentatious.

Between funny and witty Falls the shadow

The primary feature of women is not a 'beauty', it's a 'mystery'.

You will miss a normal life while living a successful life, but not as much as the craving for a successful life while you were living a normal life.

Jehovah’s Witness? Don’t sweat it. I’m going to hell, already booked my ticket. Bright side? I’m pagan. Your hell is my heaven... if for no other reason than you won’t be there.

But have you ever seen one?....They shook their heads. "Not Physically, no. But if you look at this passage - " Man, she liked that Bible. I'd read it and could definitely understand it's appeal, but I didn't have time for this.

He liked murder. Murder and long walks had been two of his favorite things when he was younger.

He wasn't aware of it but when he smiled he looked like an amiable bear. When he didn't smile he didn't look amiable

Reading is the noblest of all the hobbies, that is why people mention it so frequently in their resume even if they don't read much.

In spite of being complicated people choose superstitions over common sense.

Besides, there's no one way to be a girl, Tay. You don't need to fit yourself into what society tells us a girl should be. Girls can be whoever they want. Whether that's an ass-kicking, sarcastic, crime-solving FBI Agent or a funny, gorgeous, witty beauty queen--or both at the same time." She swings an arm around me and pulls me in. "Are you happy the way you are? Are you comfortable? Do you feel like yourself?" The corner of my mouth lifts into a half smile. "Yes. Yes. And yes." "Then that's all that matters. Fuck everything else.

Skul-man!' he exclaimed as he rushed forward to shake his hand. 'Last I heard you were trapped on a dead world overrun by evil trans-dimensional superfiends!' Skulduggery nodded. 'Just got back.

Their lips met in a slow, languid kiss. Salt from her tears mixed with her natural sweetness. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed closer. Her softness, her scent, she filled and overran his senses. He mouthed another kiss against her lips. Heat flared inside his abdomen when she opened her mouth, and kissed him back with firmer lips.  He sank into her embrace, the heated connection she offered. A kinetic warmth surged through him, lighting, igniting dormant pieces inside—like someone returning home . . . A soft groan, hushed breaths. Their mouths parted and found each other again. He slid his hand behind her neck as he deepened the kiss.

Never make eye contact with a stranger when you’re having a churro.

I don't beg for those things which can be earned.

You’re not enjoying yourself,” Syl said. “You’re starting to sound a lot like my mother.” “Captivating?” Syl said. “Amazing, witty, meaningful?” “Repetitive.” “Captivating?” Syl said. “Amazing, witty, meaningful?” “Very funny.” “Says the man not laughing,” she replied, folding her arms.

The important question is, what will your wear for a wedding dress, Alexia? You look horrible in white.

I'm waiting for her to say "Craig, what you need to do is X" and for the Shift to occur. I want there to be a Shift so bad. I want to feel my brain slide back into the slot it was meant to be in, rest there the way it did before the fall of last year, back when I was young, and witty, and my teachers said I had incredible promise, and I had incredible promise, and I spoke up in class because I was excited and smart about the world. I want the Shift so bad. I'm waiting for the phrase that will invoke it. It'll be like a miracle within my life. But is Dr. Minerva a miracle worker? No. She's a thin, tan lady from Greece with red lipstick.

My wife was saying to me just the other day how she's noticed a spring in my step lately. That was because I thought you were gone forever.' 'I missed you too, Thurid.

She didn‟t look like the athletic type to me.” “Maybe Nemov carried her. He looked like he could.” “He looked like he could carry his SUV. I don‟t know why he didn‟t.

Personally, I think knees should be kept for the eight or ninth date, or the wedding day. As a nice surprise, you know? 'Oh, my darling, you have knees! I never would have thought!

Don't open the door to strangers," said her dad. "Unless they're selling something. Then open the door and see if I'd like it. If I'd like it, buy it for me. But nothing cheap. I have standards. Nothing too expensive, either. My standards aren't that high.

He things we think he's a double agent, working for them but secretly working for us. He doesn't know we know he's a triple agent, working for them but secretly working for us but really he's secretly working for them. Dexter, how's your brain?" "Hurting.

Quote from In Love of Honey, Money....and My Virgin Passport If you think you’ve the most wicked sense of humour, try life!

Lipstick?" He arched a brow. "I'm on the hunt for my perfect shade," I respond, deadpan. "Ditch the magenta. Your olive skin screams for rose." His deadpan is better than mine.

I wanted to play with death, like a child with a new toy, I wanted to push all the buttons and see what would happen.

Endure for another day, Mister Tannen, and you'll have all the foul black misuse of water you can drink.

I agree that sometimes it is difficult to choose between right and wrong, but not between right and stupid.

Besides being witty and funny and maybe the best novel ever written, it’s also the most perfect romance in all of literature and nothing in life can ever measure up, so I spend my life limping in its shadow.

They're not going to arrest you,' Skulduggery said as they walked through the door. 'They might glare at you and say angry words, but they won't arrest you. Well, they might arrest you. There's a good chance they will. But the important thing is that I've done nothing wrong.' 'For once.

Sorry, Bex," Jason said "You don't have the recognizable facial characteristics - such as a huge chin, or a large amount of real estate between the eyes - that would merit the bestowing of a criminal mastermind nickname such as Lockjaw or Walleye. Whereas Crazytop here...well, just look at her." "Atleast I can blow-dry my hair straight," I pointed out. "Which is more than what I can say for your nose, Hawkface.

New Rule: Colin Firth has to admit that he's not a human being but a robot designed by women as the perfect man. He's handsome, charming, witty, he's got that accent and a gay best friend...the only way he could be any better is if he ejaculated Häagen-Dazs.

If you were smart," Genghis said, "you would have borrowed the silverware of one of your friends." "We never thought of that," Klaus said. When one is forced to tell atrocious lies, one often feels a guilty flutter in one's stomach, and Klaus felt such a flutter now. "You certainly are an intelligent man." "Not only am I intelligent," Genghis agreed, "but I'm also very smart.

Disgusting foods, as Madame de Pompadour discovered, do not arouse the senses. They only dull them. Seduction, as you know by now, for women starts with the ears and for men starts with the eyes and for both, travels directly to the stomach. Some say you need sweet murmurings in the ears, but I say laughter, intrigue and delicacies are more powerful.

Look around you. Watch how people function and interact with one another. You'll see this is going on everywhere all the time. People devour each other in the name of love, or family or country. But that's an excuse; they're just hungry and want to be fed. Read their faces, the newspapers, read what it says on their T-shirts! 'I think you're mistaking me for someone who gives a shit.' 'My parents went to London but all they brought me back was this lousy T-shirt.' 'So many women, so little time.' 'Whoever dies with the most toys, wins.' They're supposed to be funny, witty, and postmodern, Miranda. But the truth is they're only stating a fact: Me. I come first. Get out of my way.

Halt regarded him. He loved Horace like a younger brother. Even like a second son, after will. He admired his skill with a sword and his courage in battle. But sometimes, just sometimes, he felt an overwhelming desire to ram the young warrior's head against a convenient tree.

Your--ah--intervention, shall we say, has simplified things in the palace enormously. We no longer have to worry about Salmissra's whims and peculiar appetites. We rule by committee, and we hardly ever find it necessary to poison each other anymore. No one's tried to poison me for months.

See, what you're talking about is why hanging out with ME would be fun for YOU. It doesn't explain anything about why it'd be fun for ME. You don't bring banter. You aren't witty. You aren't funny. There is nothing to pick from your brain. You're looking for me to entertain you. A relationship is an exchange, not a one-way street. Look beyond your own personal desires for a second and understand what you bring to the exchange- nothing.

Creation at this time, peopled as it was by primal deities whose whole energy and purpose seems to have been directed towards reproduction, was endowed with an astonishing fertility. The soil was blessed with such a fecund richness that one could almost believe that if you planted a pencil it would burst into flower.

And I wanted to put my fist through your pretty, pampered face." Galen "As I recall, you did. And then you kicked me in the ass and sent me sprawling, pampered face first, into a pile of horseshit." Styxx "And you said not a word about it to anyone. You got up, took your training sword, and faced me as if you landed in a bed of poppies. All the while, shit dripping down you."Galen

Most of you Mistborn are probably too proud to crawl. I'm surprised you were willing to do so yourself." "Too proud to crawl?" Kelsier said. "Nosense! Why, I'd say that we Mistborn are too proud not to be humble enough to go crawling about--in a dignified manner, of course." Dockson frowned, approaching the desk. "Kell, that didn't make any sense." "We Mistborn need not make sense.

I'd say," the Ranger answered after a few seconds' deliberation, "that he'll be heading south now that he has the chance. Back into Araluen." "How do you know that?" Horace asked. He was always impressed at the two Rangers' ability to read a situation and come up with the correct answer to a problem. Sometimes, he thought, they almost seemed to have divine guidance. "I'm guessing," Halt told him.

Portia followed after, a smirk on her face, and Syc hissed as he passed. Donegan waited till they were gone, then swung round to Gracious. "He hissed at me." "He hissed at you." "Should I hiss back?" "It's a bit late." "He could still hear." "Not unless you run after him." "Do you think I should?" "Probably not." "I think I should." "It'd be a bit weird." "You might be right." Donegan pursed his lips, then shook his fist at the doorway. "That showed him," said Gracious. Donegan nodded. "He'll think twice about hissing at me again.

He asked what I made of the other students, so I told him. They were OK, but they were all very similar; they struggled to have different opinions because they’d never failed at anything or been nobodies, and they thought they would always win. But this isn’t most people’s experience of life. He asked me what could be done about it. I told him the answer was to send them all out for a year to do some dead-end job like working in a chicken-processing plant or spreading muck with a tractor. It would do more good than a gap year in Peru. He laughed and thought this tremendously witty. It wasn’t meant to be funny.

It's not so bad." Melancholia looked at her. "You're lying." "I'll get used to it. So will you." "I... I don't think I'll be able to." "I'll be there to help when you need it." "But I hate you." Valkyrie smiled. "No you don't." "No, I do. I want to kill you and stuff." "We actually became friends in those caves." "That's not what happened, " said Melancholia. "We're pals. We're buddies.” "If my wrists weren't in shackles, my hands would be round your throat." "You want to hug my throat because we're friends.

I smile at the interviewer’s stern face to buy more time. This is why I hate interviews. I don’t see the point of them; you can’t really be honest. I can’t tell Mrs. Chainani that I left my producer job because all my colleagues were bitches. The job was too stressful and everyone was horrible. It certainly wasn’t glamorous. I’m not really passionate about the media. I’m not passionate about anything, really. I just need a job. Anything will do.

You might not get the apology you deserve. You might not get answers to explain the actions of others. You might not get truth that makes sense to you. You might not get people to understand what you went through because of them. You might not get communication. You might not get maturity. You might not get mercy or even common decency. You might not get respect or the chance to explain your side of the story. However, you do get to choose how people treat you. God loves you enough to bring people into your life who won't hurt you, abuse you, betray you, lie and gossip about you, psycho analyse you, break your heart or make you an option or choice. He will bring people into your life that will love you, respect you, fight for you, show gratitude for your love and want to be a part of your life mission. The best part of this is you don't have to convince them of your worth. They want to be there. They know your value. They know your struggles. They are in touch with their own faults and understand you struggle just like everyone else. They won't hold you to a greater standard then they do themselves. They care about you and don't want to see you cry, feel discouraged or give up on this life. When you know the power of who you are and what you have to accomplish you will scratch your head in disbelief that you allowed other people to dictate who you are based on little knowledge of what God knows about you and your life purpose. Letting go isn't about accepting defeat or acknowledging you were wrong. Sometimes letting go is realizing that God has something better in store for you.

They keep saying that beautiful is something a girl needs to be. But honestly? Forget that. Don't be beautiful. Be angry, be intelligent, be witty, be klutzy, be interesting, be funny, be adventurous, be crazy, be talented - there are an eternity of other things to be other than beautiful. And what is beautiful anyway but a set of letters strung together to make a word? Be your own definition of amazing, always. That is so much more important than anything beautiful, ever.

Well I'm not going to hope that you get hurt, but if you do, remember that you're my damsel in distress, and no one is allowed to carry you." "I don't remember signing a contract." "All the more reason to promise me now." "What if you're not around when I get hurt?" "Send word, I`ll come running." "How big an injury does it have to be? Because sometimes I do this thing when I stand up too quickly and my ankle kind of twists a little---" "Sounds serious. You don't want to put any weight on that. I`d better carry you the next time that happens." "What if I skin my knee?" "I`ll carry you." "Charley horse?" "I`ll carry you." "Chipped toenail?" "Not worth taking a risk. I`ll carry you.” I grin at him [...] I have to admit -- he's funnier and smarter than I've given him credit for.

Says O'Sullivan to me, "Mr. Fay, I'll have a word wid yeh?" "Certainly," says I; "what can I do for you?" "Sell me your sea- boots, Mr. Fay," says O'Sullivan, polite as can be. "But what will you be wantin' of them?" says I. "'Twill be a great favour," says O'Sullivan. "But it's my only pair," says I; "and you have a pair of your own," says I. "Mr. Fay, I'll be needin' me own in bad weather," says O'Sullivan. "Besides," says I, "you have no money." "I'll pay for them when we pay off in Seattle," says O'Sullivan. "I'll not do it," says I; "besides, you're not tellin' me what you'll be doin' with them." "But I will tell yeh," says O'Sullivan; "I'm wantin' to throw 'em over the side." And with that I turns to walk away, but O'Sullivan says, very polite and seducin'-like, still a-stroppin' the razor, "Mr. Fay," says he, "will you kindly step this way an' have your throat cut?" And with that I knew my life was in danger, and I have come to make report to you, sir, that the man is a violent lunatic.

There was a few seconds' pause. Then Amit said: I meant, what were you thinking just now. When? said Lata. When you were looking at Pran and Savita. Over the pudding. Oh. Well, what? I can't remember, said Lata with a smile. Amit laughed. Why are you laughing? asked Lata I like making you feel uncomfortable, I suppose. Oh. Why? --Or happy--or puzzled--just to see your change of mood. It's such fun. I pity you! Why? said Lata, startled. Because you'll never know what a pleasure it is to be in your company. Do stop talking like that, said Lata. Ma will come in any minute. You're quite right. In that case: Will you marry me? Lata dropped her cup. It fell to the floor and broke. She looked at the broken pieces--luckily, it has been empty--and then at Amit. Quick! said Amit. Before they come running to see what's happened. Say yes. Lata had knelt down; she was gathering he bits of the cup together and placing them on the delicately patterned blue-and-gold saucer. Amit joined her on the floor. Her face was only a few inches away from his, but her mind appeared to be somewhere else. he wanted to kiss her but he sensed that there was no question of it. One by one she picked up the shards of china. Was it a family heirloom? asked Amit. What? I'm sorry--said Lata, snapped out of her trance by the words. Well, I suppose I'll have to wait. I was hoping that by springing it on you like that I'd surprise you into agreeing... ...Do stop being idotic, Amit, said Lata. You're so brilliant, do you have to be so stupid as well? I should only take you seriously in black and white. And in sickness and health. Lata laughed: For better and for worse, she added.