#humour

I have actually known a case where a Woman has exterminated her whole household, and half an hour afterwards, when her rage was over and the fragments swept away, has asked what has become of her husband and her children. ↗

— Edwin A. Abbott

#family-relationships #humour #satire #women #anger

Mrs. Joe was a very clean housekeeper, but had an exquisite art of making her cleanliness more uncomfortable and unacceptable than dirt itself. ↗

— Charles Dickens

#art

Sir," said the guard from behind me. "I'd appreciate it if you left your club here." I paused and looked over my shoulder, He had a gun. His hand wasn't exactly resting on it, but he'd tucked his thumb into his belt about half an inch away. "It isn't a club," I said calmly. "It's a walking stick." "Six feet long." "It's traditional Ozark folk art." "With dents and nicks all over it." I thought about it for a second. "I'm insecure?" "Get a blanket. ↗

— Jim Butcher

#humourous #art

Whoever thou art that, not content with a moderate condition, imaginest happiness in royal magnificence, and dreamest that command or riches can feed the appetite of novelty with perpetual gratifications, survey the Pyramids, and confess thy folly! ↗

— Samuel Johnson

#truth #art

May the fleas of a thousand camels invade the crotch of the person that ruins your day. And may their arms be to short too scratch ↗

— Keisha Keenleyside

#anger #funny #happy #humor #humour

Finalement, le plus grand bénéfice du métier d'humoriste, et plus généralement de l'attitude humoristique, dans la vie, c'est de pouvoir se comporter comme un salaud en toute impunité, et même de pouvoir grassement rentabiliser son abjection, en succès sexuels comme en numéraire, le tout avec l'approbation générale. (La possibilité d'une île, Daniel 1,1) ↗

— Michel Houellebecq

#laugh #attitude

The human body is the best work of art. ↗

— Jess C. Scott

#beauty #body #body-image #dancer #desire

It is better to be first with an ugly woman than the hundreth with a beauty. ↗

— Pearl S. Buck

#beauty

I woke up when my pillow was yanked out from under my head and Chloe mumbled something incoherent about spinach and hot dogs. The woman was a sleep-talking, restless bed hog. ↗

— Christina Lauren

#humour #beauty

Casa Hatüey was named Hatüey because in Times Past it supposedly had been owned by a descendant of the priest who tried to baptize Hatüey right before the Spaniards burned him at the stake. (What Hatüey said on that pyre is a legend in itself: Are there white people in Heaven? Then I'd rather go to Hell.) History, however, has not been kind to Hatüey. Unless somethings changes ASAP he will go out like his camarada Crazy Horse. Coffled to a beer, in a country not his own. ↗

— Junot Díaz

#change