Total found: 50
Christopher Moore
Love: the sickest of Irony's sick jokes. The place where logic and order go to die.
Christopher Moore
Love needs room to grow. Like a rose. Or a tumor.
Christopher Moore
Boredom can be a lethal thing on a small island.
Christopher Moore
People, generally, suck.
Christopher Moore
If you think anyone is sane you just don't know enough about them.
Christopher Moore
It's sarcasm, Josh.Sarcasm?It's from the Greek, sarkasmos. To bite the lips. It means that you aren't really saying what you mean, but people will get your point. I invented it, Bartholomew named it.Well, if the village idiot named it, I'm sure it's a good thing.There you go, you got it.Got what?Sarcasm.No, I meant it.Sure you did.Is that sarcasm?Irony, I think.What's the difference?I haven't the slightest idea.So you're being ironic now, right?No, I really don't know.Maybe you should ask the idiot.Now you've got it.What?Sarcasm.
Christopher Moore
There's some heinous fuckery goin' on mon.
Christopher Moore
She's so small, yet she contains so much evil.
Christopher Moore
I love you above all things, even pie.
Christopher Moore
I've seen more intelligence in the crotch lice of harem whores.
Christopher Moore
Canada is a myth people made up to entertain children, like the Tooth Fairy. There's no such place.
Christopher Moore
Christmas crept into Pine Cove like a creeping Christmas thing: dragging garland, ribbon, and sleigh bells, oozing eggnog, reeking of pine, and threatening festive doom like a cold sore under the mistletoe.
Christopher Moore
Joshua's ministry was three years of preaching, sometimes three times a day, and although there were some high and low points, I could never remember the sermons word for word, but here's the gist of almost every sermon I ever heard Joshua give.You should be nice to people, even creeps.And if you:a) believed that Joshua was the Son of God (and)b) he had come to save you from sin (and)c) acknowledged the Holy Spirit within you (became as a little child, he would say) (and)d) didn't blaspheme the Holy Ghost (see c)then you would:e) live foreverf) someplace niceg) probably heavanHowever, if you:h) sinned (and/or)i) were a hypocrite (and/or)j) valued things over people (and)k) didn't do a, b, c, and d,then you were:l) fucked
Christopher Moore
Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry, you can't have a baby brother, because that would mean that Daddy had sex, and that's never going to happen again.
Christopher Moore
I've tried to get the angel to watch MTV so I can learn the vocabulary of your music, but even with the gift of tongues, I'm having trouble learning to speak hip-hop. Why is it that one can busta rhyme or busta move anywhere but you must busta cap in someone's ass? Is ho always feminine, and muthafucka always masculine, while bitch can be either? How many peeps in a posse, how much booty before baby got back, do you have to be all that to get all up in that, and do I need to be dope and phat to be da bomb or can I just be stupid? I'll not be singing over any dead mothers until I understand.
Christopher Moore
He was a writer and words were his weapons.
Christopher Moore
I've won Satan's lottery.
Christopher Moore
Let me say right here, if I haven't made it clear, that I have seen as many pale, naked old-man parts in the last twenty-four hours to bruise my delicate psyche for a lifetime, so don't be surprised if you someday find me wandering the moors at midnight, a crazed look in my eye, babbling about albino Tater Tots nesting in Brillo pads and being pursued by sagging man ass, because that shit can happen when you've been traumatized.
Christopher Moore
By Aladdin's lamplit scrotum, man! Everything is a story. What is there but stories? Stories are the only truth.
Christopher Moore
Hope is bulletproof, truth just hard to hit
Christopher Moore
Routine feeds the illusion of safety...
Christopher Moore
Mr. Asher, you can resist who you are for only so long. Finally, you just decide to go with fate.
Christopher Moore
As a teacher of fourth-graders in a public school, where corporal punishement was not allowed, she had years of violence stored up and was, truth be told, sort of enjoying letting it out on Kona, who she felt could have been the poster child for the failure of public education.
Christopher Moore
Science, you don't know, looks like magic.
Christopher Moore
All killer whales are named Kevin. You knew that, right?
Christopher Moore
Everyone thinks that it was the big strong caveman who got the girl, and for the most part, that may have been true, but physical strength doesn't explain how our species created civilization. I think there was always some scrawny dreamer sitting at the edge of the firelight, who had the ability to imagine dangers, to look into the future in his imagination and see possibilities, and therefore survived to pass his genes on to the next generation. When the big ape men ended up running off the cliff or getting killed while trying to beat a mastodon into submission with a stick, the dreamer was standing back thinking 'Hey, that might work, but you need to run the mastodon off the cliff.' And, then he'd mate with the women left over after the go-getters got killed.
Christopher Moore
... but to remain historically accurate, I would have had to leave out an important question that I felt needed to be addressed, which is, 'What if Jesus had known kung fu?
Christopher Moore
And I was all, Don't be gross, you crustacious fuck. You pull that thing out and I'll pepper-spray you until you fry. (You have to be stern with weenie waggers--I've been exposed to on the bus over seventeen times, so I know.)
Christopher Moore
A woman's magazine quiz:Question: You decide to do the dread deed and just as things are starting to get hot he comes, rolls over, and asks, Was it good for you?You:a. Say, God, yes! That was the best seventeen seconds of my lifeb. Say, Sure, as good as it gets for me with a man.c. Put a Certs in your navel and say, That's for you, Mr. Bunnyman. You can have it on your way back up, after the job is finished
Christopher Moore
Lash had been explaining to her that it's impolite to refer to an African American as a nigga, unless one was another African American, when Troy Lee came in and said, She only speaks Cantonese.She does not. She keeps coming in and saying 'What's up my nigga?'Oh yeah. She does that to me, too. Did you give her a pound?No. I didn't give her a pound, motherfucker. She called me a nigga.Well, she's not going to quit unless you give her a pound. It's just the way she rolls.That's some bullshit, Troy.It's her couch.
Christopher Moore
Abby Von Normal - And I'm like, Don't change the subject, Kung Pao, what I want to know is if you're ready to spend some up-close and personal time with ninety pounds of barbarian woman-flesh! Sorry, I don't know how much that is in kilos.
Christopher Moore
Is she special? (asks the gay waiter) I thinks she's going to break my heart On arrival of the girl The flannel is fine honey,but I have'nt seen anyone that over accesorized since batman!
Christopher Moore
No matter where he went in the City, there was an odoriferous mix of food and vehicles, like the alchemic concoctions of some mad gourmet mechanic: Kung Pao Saab Turbo, Buick Skylark Carbonara, Sweet-and-Sour Metro Bus, Honda Bolognese with Burning Clutch Sauce.
Christopher Moore
Stephenie Meyer: Her vampires are sparkly, which I think we can all agree is wrong.
Christopher Moore
Which isn't, like, as bad as it sounds, because the general public kind of sucks ass.
Christopher Moore
The angel has confided in me that he is going to ask the Lord if he can become Spider-Man. [...] The children need heroes, he says. I think he just wants to swing from buildings in tight red jammies.
Christopher Moore
Blessed are the meek, for to them we shall say attaboy.
Christopher Moore
...and thus he found his single source of joy in the society of other people: frightening the girls with his penis.
Christopher Moore
In business, as in politics, the public is ever so tolerant of those who slime.
Christopher Moore
The prospect of change is a many-fanged beast, my dear.
Christopher Moore
Don't be so hard on yourself, You're doing the same thing, trying to reconcile all the moms that Mom ever was - The one you wanted, the one she was when you needed her and she was there, the one she was when she didn't understand. Most of us don't live our lives with one, integrated self that meets the world, we're a whole bunch of selves. When someone dies, they all integrate into the soul - the essence of who we are, beyond the different faces we wear throughout our lives. You're just hating the selves you've always hated, and loving the ones you've always loved. It's bound to mess you up.
Christopher Moore
Nobody's perfect. Well, there was this one guy, but we killed him....
Christopher Moore
The Painting is not shit,' said Lucien.'I know,' said Henri. 'That was just part of the subterfuge. I am of royal lineage; subterfuge is one of the many talents we carry in our blood, along with guile and hemophilia.
Christopher Moore
'Paint only what you see,' his hero Millet had admonished.'Imagination is a burden to a painter,' Auguste Renoir had told him. 'Painters are craftsmen, not storytellers. Paint what you see.'Ah, but what they hadn't said, hadn't warned him about, was how much you could see.
Christopher Moore
Of course they won't bloody remember, they'll be dead.' Then she called him a name in a dead language that translated, roughly, to 'poop on a stick,' but sounded more succinct, like this: 'Of course they won't bloody remember, they'll be dead, Poopstick.
Christopher Moore
I love you, Lucien, but I am a muse, you are an artist, I am not here to make you comfortable.
Christopher Moore
I like a girl with a substantial bottom,' said Renoir, drawing in the air the size bottom he preferred.
Christopher Moore
Whistler,' Manet called. 'How's your mother?
Christopher Moore
Does the work get easier once you know what you are doing?Your lungs grow thick with stone dust and your eyes bleary from the sun and fragments thrown up by the chisel. You pour your lifeblood out into works of stone for Romans who will take your money in taxes to feed soldiers who will nail your people to crosses for wanting to be free. Your back breaks, your bones creak, your wife screeches at you, and your children torment you with open begging mouths, like greedy baby birds in the nest. You go to bed every night so tired and beaten that you pray to the Lord to send the angel of death to take you in your sleep so you don't have to face another morning. It also has its downside.
Christopher Moore
I tried cutting myself to express my heartbreak over Tommy (Lord Flood) rejecting me, but OMFG it hurts like flaming fuck.