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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #humour
GUIL: It [Hamlet's madness] really boils down to symptoms. Pregnant replies, mystic allusions, mistaken identities, arguing his father is his mother, that sort of thing; intimations of suicide, forgoing of exercise, loss of mirth, hints of claustrophobia not to say delusions of imprisonment; invocations of camels, chameleons, capons, whales, weasels, hawks, handsaws -- riddles, quibbles and evasions; amnesia, paranoia, myopia; day-dreaming, hallucinations; stabbing his elders, abusing his parents, insulting his lover, and appearing hatless in public -- knock-kneed, droop-stockinged and sighing like a love-sick schoolboy, which at his age is coming on a bit strong. ROS: And talking to himself. GUIL: And talking to himself. ↗
One of the poets, whose name I cannot recall, has a passage, which I am unable at the moment to remember, in one of his works, which for the time being has slipped my mind, which hits off admirably this age-old situation. ↗
Doyle: "What is it now, then?" Cordelia: "Isn't java supposed to be a coffee?" Doyle: "Ready to abandon the the Web project?" Cordelia: "No way. We have a chance here to make contact with the millions of people out there who are glued to their computers." Doyle: "All those millions, shunning human contact. I'll never understand it. Call me old-fashioned, if you like, but I want to interface with a face, not a hunk of plastic and glass." Cordelia: "Climb out of the Dark Ages, Munchkin man." Doyle: "It's leprechaun, and either way, I don't appreciate the insult. ↗
#avatar #cordelia #doyle #humour #joss-whedon
Ask any Ferrari, Porsche or Ray-Ban salesperson about their average customer and you will very likely hear that he is not, as the adverts would have us believe, a virile young footballer with shiny hair, a rippling six pack and a trouser pouch like a new punch bag. He is, in fact, a middle-aged bloke wearing more chins than he started life with and carrying the clear evidence of forty years of beer and pies slung across his midriff. ↗
#age
Oh my God. Party punch. He’d brought a woman with the social age of twelve to the Citadel. He deserved everything he got. ↗
