Quotes About Humor

Sarcasm is irony which has lost its soul

The land of embarrassment and breakfast.

If you turned your back on irony, it curdled into sarcasm. And what good was it then? Sarcasm was irony which had lost its soul.

Tragedies in hindsight look like farces.

Some Englishman once said marriage is a long dull meak with pudding served first

When we're onstage we're not literature, we're sitcom. You have to have catchphrases.

Some Englishman once said that marriage is a long dull meal with the pudding served first.

The pigs and sheep you see walking around today are zombies compared to their effervescent ancestors on the Ark. They've had the stuffing knocked out of them. And some of them, like the turkey, have to endure the further indignity of having the stuffing put back into them – before they are braised or boiled.

This was one of the differences between the three of us and our new friend, We were essentially taking the piss, except when we were serious. He was essentially serious, except when he was taking the piss. It took us a while to work this out.

We were essentially taking the piss, except when we were serious. He was essentially serious, except when he was taking the piss. It took us a while to work this out.

Sex as civic duty? I thought, somehow, this was very Dutch. Also, sort of adorable.

pustular berk with the charisma of a plimsole

This was another skill women were meant to learn: when a man's story had come to an end. Mostly, it wasn't a problem, as the end was thumpingly obvious; or else the narrator started snorting with laughter in advance, which was always a pretty good clue. Martha had long ago decided only to laugh at things she found funny. It seemed a normal sort of rule; but most men found it rebuking.

Sybil, vulgarity is no substitute for wit.

Do you think Kinkade is Welland-Dowd? she wondered Chase burst into laughter so booming that every head on the street rotated, startled. Oh,God. She'd just understood when she'd said it aloud. Welland-Dowd. Well-endowed.

Irony, when delivered cold and shaved very, very fine, could sound like amusement.

Kinkade sketched the occasional nude woman, and was generous about passing the sketches around to the men and cheerful about accepting criticisms and suggestions, which he seldom incorporated, as he had his own vision. He signed them O.McCaucus-Bigg A new soldier was always puzzled by this, given that this wasn't Kinkade's name. O.McCaucus-Bigg? Braggart, are you? Kinkade would roar. Not as big as mine,laddie! A good joke, suitable for thirteen-year-old boys and bored sergeants and subalterns.

Let's refer to it as Saturday, rather than the day of my hanging, shall we?

Her laugh was wonderful. It was mischief made musical.

For if light had a sound, it was that laugh.

All of my books are made of sweat, blood, laughter, cat hair, chocolate and inspiration.

Sorry . . . thank you. Good night," she said finally. She pivoted and headed for the house. He stared blankly. Thank you, good night? Like she was Lynyrd Skynyrd, and he was a San Francisco crowd?

Does she make you laugh?" He thought about this. "She laughs a good deal when I'm about," he allowed. Did Colin Eversea really want to be laughed at rather than with his entire life? He was the most maddening person she'd ever met, but his humor contained angles; he used it both to deflect and persuade. And if one could see around it, one would see into vulnerability.

Get off me. You weigh more than the doors to your home.