In peacetime some sort of introduction is generally required to make a person's acquaintance; in war a small eatable will perform the same office.
Susanna ClarkeWe break our huddle and Eight immediately transforms into one of his massive avatars. His handsome features melt away, replaced by the snarling face and golden mane of a lion. He grows to about twelve feet, ten arms sprouting out of his sides, each of them tipped with razor-sharp claws. Nine whistles through his teeth.
'Now we're talking,' Nine says. 'One of your parents must've been a chimæra. Probably your mom.
Tags: books humour science-fiction
When I meet people, I no longer say "Hi, I'm Derek Landy, pleased to meet you." Now I say "Hi, I'm number one bestselling author Derek Landy. Worship me.
Derek LandyTags: humour skulduggery-pleasant
Mr Hawkins said nothing; the Hawkins' domestic affairs were arranged upon the principle that Fanny supplied the talk and he the silence.
Susanna ClarkeTags: humour marriage language
Strange bent over these things, with a concentration to rival Minervois's own, questioning, criticizing and proposing. Strange and the two engravers spoke French to each other. To Strange's surprize Childermass understood perfectly and even addressed one or two
questions to Minervois in his own language. Unfortunately, Childermass's French was so strongly accented by his native Yorkshire that Minervois did not understand and asked Strange if Childermass was Dutch.
Tags: humour languages accents
HECKLER: Say something funny!
COMEDIAN: I don't do requests.
Tags: humor humour comedy comedians hecklers heckling
My dad used to tell me that laughter was like a cough or a sneeze - the body's way of trying to expel something. But instead of some phlegm in your throat, or some dust up your nose, a laugh happened when something really true got into your brain. Something so true that your system just couldn't stand it.
J. Ross ClaraTags: humor truth laughter humour comedy laughing
I already told you,” said Adam. “There is no need to swear.”
“Sorry, it just fucking slipped out,” said Zeb.
He didn’t say anything until we approached my trailer. “Truth be told, I was hoping for
a goodnight kiss, you know, after the park and everything.”
I ignored him and increased my pace again. After a few more steps, I had a small
brainstorm and sallied around with a smug expression. “Sorry, it’s not cold enough to kiss
you.”
He looked puzzled. “Okay, you’ve lost me. What does the cold have to do with you
kissing me?”
“Simple, the river Phlegethon will have to freeze over before I’ll ever kiss you again.”
Dr. Bore would be proud of my mythology reference. Seth just threw his head back and
laughed. “I’m glad you think that’s funny.”
He gently, but firmly, took my chin in his hand. “Methinks the lady doth protest too
much.”
He did not just misquote Shakespeare to me!
“I watched you taste my kiss back at the park, Maggie. You enjoyed it as much as I
did. You know it and I know it.” His voice rumbled soft, low, and yummy. I yanked my
head free and walked up the small path to my porch.
“Sooner or later, Maggie, our lips will meet again. Personally, I’m voting for sooner.”
I wheeled around, almost losing my balance. “Why do guys like you think every girl
wants to make out with them? I don’t get it.”
The playful grin had vanished from his face. “I didn’t ask you to make out, Maggie.
Goodnight.” A twist of guilt clutched at my belly as he walked away.
Let me get this straight. The future of our relationship hinged on advice from a fifteen-year-old girl, a probably untrue story from a one-eyed Chihuahua trainer, and me unromantically - yet skillfully - kissing you on top of silverware and china?
Richelle MeadTags: love kiss humour richelle-mead adrian-ivashkov bloodlines sydney-sage the-indigo-spell sydrian
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