Quotes About Wit

Diderot was so flustered by the affront that he only thought of a clever retort as he was walking down the stairs on his way out. The encounter led him to devise the term "l'esprit d'escalier," "the wit of the staircase," for the experience of thinking of a witty comeback only after it is too late to deliver it.

Witzelsucht, in which patients compulsively share dreadful puns, facetious jokes, and socially inappropriate wisecracks.

They shared a fondness for barbed humor and skill at using it to defuse stress. Each recognized the other as a master of this dangerous game, producing mutual respect.

who knew John XXIII was so funny? Of course, not all the stories were laugh-out-loud funny. And I had already heard his famous answer to the journalist who asked innocently, "How many people work in the Vatican?" "About half of them," said His Holiness.

Wilde: I wish I'd said that.Whistler: You will, Oscar, you will.

Oscar Wilde: "I wish I had said that." Whistler: "You will, Oscar; you will.

The next time somebody announces that he plans to get Medieval on your ass, tell him you're going to get Renaissance on his gonads.

Fang: 'Man, You weigh a freaking ton! What have you been eating, rocks?' Max: 'Why, is your head missing some?

Man, you weigh a freaking ton," he told me. "What've you been eating, rocks?" "Why, is your head missing some?" I croaked. His mouth almost quirked in a smile, and that's when I knew how upset he'd been

Don't be stupid." "I think that's what I'm best known for.

The wit makes fun of other persons; the satirist makes fun of the world; the humorist makes fun of himself, but in so doing, he identifies himself with people – that is, people everywhere, not for the purpose of taking them apart, but simply revealing their true nature.

I'll have a martini...two at the most. Three, I'm under the table...four, I'm under the host.

Are you by any chance …' said Lymond. '… baiting you?' Philippa said. 'Only when you are inclined to be magisterial.' 'Oh, good God,' Lymond said. 'Kate must be out of her mind.' 'And thank heaven you aren't my father?' said Philippa. 'Roughly,' said Lymond, and began to laugh, and then stopped.

I'll take care of it,' said Richard Crawford quietly, and Lymond lifted his head. 'Oh, Richard. Timely as ever. I want.…' 'I know what you want,' said Lord Culter comfortably, and hooked an arm under his brother's stained shoulders. 'I doubt it,' said Lymond drily.

Do you swim? Hunt? Wrestle? I see. Can you use a crossbow? Your longest shot? Can you count? Read and write? Ah, the sting of sarcasm—Have we a scholar here? Then produce us a specimen," said Lymond. "What about some modest quatrains? Frae vulgar prose to flowand Latin. Deafen us, enchant us, educate us, boy.

Jerott had no reason to challenge her wit. For a woman, it seemed to him at times excessive to tiresomeness.

A reluctant watchdog, Culter held a post of small dignity, vulnerable to a thousand shafts of wit … which did not arrive. Francis at his most quiet, his most responsible showed his elder brother the face, Adam thought, his friends sometimes saw. And from that realized that Francis, in those final days, was drawing from obscurity an old friendship, to be remembered later maybe, and recognized.

To the devil with your pearldrops and your parroty manners. A filled mind and an apt wit will earn you all the respect any man has the means to deserve.

If anybody ever marries you, it will be for the pleasure of hearing you talk piffle.

Bunter!" "Yes, my lord." "Her Grace tells me that a respectable Battersea architect has discovered a dead man in his bath." "Indeed, my lord? That's very gratifying." "Very, Bunter. Your choice of words is unerring. I wish Eton and Balliol had done as much for me...

Yes, and look at the corpses. Place always reminds me of that old thing in Punch, you know—'Waiter, take away Lord Whatsisname, he's been dead two days.' Look at Old Ormsby there, snoring

Peter: Oy! Harriet: Hullo! Peter: I just wanted to ask whether you'd given any further thought to that suggestion about marrying me. Harriet (sarcastically) : I suppose you were thinking how delightful it would be to go through life together like this? Peter: Well, not quite like this. Hand in hand was more my idea. Harriet: What is that in your hand? Peter: A dead starfish. Harriet: Poor fish! Peter: No ill-feeling, I trust? Harriet: Oh, dear no.

What devilish things we do when we try to be clever.

That's better,' said Wimsey. 'Napoleon or somebody said that you could always turn a tragedy into a comedy by sittin' down.