Quotes About Irony

Maupassant used to eat at the restaurant in the Eiffel Tower because it was the only place in Paris where he did not risk seeing the Eiffel Tower.

I love being talked down to, Rocket. It's my favorite thing." -Tony Stark

The irony of this is that while believers and non-believers are on opposite sides where religious ideas are concerned they may also find themselves on the same side in the struggle for freedom of belief.

If not so tragic, it would be laughable. Both sides os blinded by their fear and hate of each other that they couldn't see that they were all fighting for the same thing- for the men to leave this island. Insanity!

I love the absurdity of everyday life. There's so much material there for a satirist.

The great thing about satire is that it can be both funny and serious at the same time.

How ironic that the cultures our modern world has marginalized are the very cultures with the wisdom to heal our modern woes.

There is, of course, a deep irony in the fact that technology, which was supposed to cut the ties between people and places and allow people everywhere to work from almost anywhere, turns out to flourish in fairly compact geographic locations.

You can load your own documents onto your Kindle, but Amazon is able to delete books it has already sold you. In 2009, Amazon automatically deleted some editions of George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four from users' Kindles because of a copyright issue. I know, you just couldn't write this stuff any more ironically.

Your blessings and your curses often come in the same package.

In July of 2018, WWE announced that it had signed the most lucrative television deal in history, a five-year deal with USA and FOX totaling a staggering $2.3 billion. The irony is that ratings for RAW and SmackDown were hitting all-time lows.

Let us pause for a moment to consider the irony of a Mexican government determined to stop the flow of illegal American immigrants. You just have to relish it. The only thing missing is a Mexican president promising to build a wall.

The sense of humor is essentially cruel, and therefore really kind people never have any at all.

Now, that Lazarus should lie stranded there on the curbstone before the door of Dives, this is more wonderful than that an iceberg should be moored to one of the Moluccas. Yet Dives himself, he too lives like a Czar in an ice palace made of frozen sighs, and being a president of a temperance society, he only drinks the tepid tears of orphans.

How wondrous familiar is a fool!

But Stubb, he eats the whale by its own light, does he? and that is adding insult to injury, is it? Look at your knife-handle, there, my civilized and enlightened gourmand, dining off that roast beef, what is that handle made of?—what but the bones of the brother of the very ox you are eating?

Go to the meat-market of a Saturday night and see the crowds of live bipeds staring up at the long rows of dead quadrupeds. Does not that sight take a tooth out of the cannibal's jaw? Cannibals? who is not a cannibal?

Hay ciertas extrañas ocasiones y coyunturas en este raro asunto entremezclado que llamamos vida, en que uno toma el entero universo por una enorme broma pesada, aunque no llega a discernirle su gracia sino vagamente, y tiene algo más que sospechas de que la broma no es a expensas sino de él mismo.

Often ill comes from the good, as good from ill.

enormous tragic joke in steel and concrete: half a wall.

What kind of rat bastard psychotic would play that song- right now, at this moment?

The Angels, like all other motorcycle outlaws, are rigidly anti-Communist. Their political views are limited to the same kind of retrograde patriotism that motivates the John Birch Society, the Ku Klux Klan and the American Nazi Party. They are blind to the irony of their role . . . knight errants of a faith from which they have already been excommunicated. The Angels will be among the first to be locked up or croaked if the politicians they think they agree with ever come to power.

What a gulf between impression and expression! That's our ironic fate—to have Shakespearean feelings and (unless by some billion-to-one chance we happen to be Shakespeare) to talk about them like automobile salesmen or teenagers or college professors. We practice alchemy in reverse—touch gold and it turns into lead; touch the pure lyrics of experience, and they turn into the verbal equivalents of tripe and hogwash.

I wonder if – as I tumble towards the waves – I'll have time to get the iPhone out, hit Facebook and change my status to 'Dead'.