Quotes About Comedy

Good taste is the enemy of comedy.

When I go to the beach, even the tide won't come in.

I've been asked to say a couple of words about my husband, Fang. How about short and cheap?

My wife met me at the door the other night in a sexy negligee. Unfortunately, she was just coming home.

I've always dreamed of growing up to be Amy Poehler.

I was with a famous comedian when a young fan walked up and asked for an autograph. The comedian blew him off. I'll never forget the look on the young boy's face. He was devastated.

I'm beginning to have morning sickness. I'm not having a baby, I'm just sick of morning.

I have nothing against dogs. I just hate rugs that go squish-squish.

It's true Fang and I fight, but we've never gone to bed mad. Of course, one year we were up for three months.

I like to crack the jokes now and again, but it's only because I struggle with math.

I think the reason I choose the comic approach so often is because it's harder, therefore affording me the opportunity to show off.

You know why fish are so thin? They eat fish.

Actually, I comb my hair quite often. Of course, I use an electric toothbrush.

The only parts left of my original body are my elbows.

I'll never forget my first fur. It was a modest little stole. Modest? People thought I was wearing anchovies.

I'd rather be funny than wise.

Why aren't you signed up for the 401K? I'd never be able to run that far.

Humor is the honey in my tea.

I crack myself up.

Pee pee, poo poo. Pee? Poo. Poo, poo.

Feature-length film comedy is harder to pull off than the episodic sitcom - it doesn't have the same factory machinery up and running, teams of writers putting familiar characters through permutations - but that doesn't explain the widening quality gap that makes movie humor look like a genetic defective.

It's the contemporary woman that movies don't know what to do with, other than bathe her in a bridal glow in romantic comedies where both the romance and the comedy are artificial sweeteners.

For GQ's Andrew Corsello, Louis C.K.'s qualification to be considered El Supremo is that he is more than a comedian—he is a bug zapper of white lies and dark impulses, an urban shaman receiving and transmitting warped vibrations, a psychic surgeon delving into our shifty, cloaked selves.

This is not a date; this is an audition for a play about a terrible date.