And if he was kind and friendly and funny, and if he told you about places so beautiful that you wanted to go with him to see them, and if he listened to you talk like he actually cared about what you were saying? And if he tried to protect you when other people tried to tell you what to do, as if they owned you? And if he has the handsomest face you've ever seen, no matter if the skin has been damaged, because he's just lovely even so?

And there’s no synthetic owners manual?” His lips twitched, smile threatening to break into a grin. A joke. He wasn’t funny. “Do you come with an owners’ manual, Captain? Because I’d like to study your troubleshooting section.”“Would you like to strip me down to my nuts and bolts, and figure out what makes me tick?”“I knew what made you tick from the moment we first met. That’s why I punched you between the legs.”~ #1001 & Caleb

I don't remember a single monster before I met you.' he'd told Amphibian. 'Now they seem to be all over the place.''You mean there wasn't anything you were afraid of?' the Amphibian had asked him.'lots.''What did they look like?'It was a funny question.'They didn't look like anything. They were ideas,' Tom told him. 'Like not being able to pay rent, or being lonely.''That's the most terrifying thing I've ever heard.' the Amphibian replied.

This fucking city is full of nothing but thugs, money grubbing porn-bitches, and hustlers. I’m calling the police.” Ex fumed as he struggled to pull his cell from his pocket.If Syn weren't so damn angry it would’ve been funny as shit the way the man’s jaw dropped when God and Day both pulled their gold badges out from under their shirts. Day smiled that sinister grin and kneeled in front of them, speaking in an official tone, “911, what is your emergency?

That's when I saw you, really saw you for the first time. I didn't intend to look at you, it just happened. It was like those pictures, you know, those optical illusions. You can gaze at them forever and see only one thing. Then when you relax your eyes for just a moment, another picture magically appears. The funny thing with that kind of visual trick it that it's really hard to go back to seeing the original picture once you've seen the new one.

Humans are most imaginative when they need a means of self-destruction. If the world existed in an overflowing amount of happiness; a utopian state, then the suicide rate would dwarf any extinction level threat. Humans cannot be trusted with their own survival. Their minds have been trained to be blindly and unconsciously subjugated. In a time related to Heaven-on-Earth, the smallest amount of worry, will drive a human into the arms of death. This is how weak and fragile the human mind and will is. It's funny, because the best friend of humanity, is none other than Chaos itself.

His long wait is almost done. I am sending Balon Swann to Sunspear, to deliver him the head of Gregor Clegane.” Ser Balon would have another task as well, but that part was best left unsaid.“Ah.” Ser Harys Swyft fumbled at his funny little beard with thumb and forefinger. “He is dead then? Ser Gregor?”“I would think so, my lord,” Aurane Waters said dryly. “I am told that removing the head from the body is often mortal.

Sales business is funny, despite the target stress running in the back of our mind, we still chose & approach the clients to avoid rejection, we learn to live with the stress but we can’t learn to live with the rejection, which is the part & parcel of the sales process. To survive, we must act like a non-swimmer in the water, how the fear of drowning makes them hold on to anything in sight? In order to survive keep an open approach, don’t just wait for the rope of your perceptions to get pulled out.

What do you have in mind? Rebuild the city?" Eric asks. "Or should we skip to the repopulating part?""Shut up," Jost commands. "You aren't funny.""Why? That's the nice part of getting stuck on a completely forsaken piece of dirt.""You better hope that you find someone to help you do it then, because she's taken. I'm sure there's a nice dog around here somewhere. Maybe you should stick to your own species," Jost says.

One more month," he said finally. "And then they—and Samuel, too—will just have to get used to it. His eye is the color of a bitch with dark chocolate, worst few years and he leaned forward. "And you will marry me." I smiled, showing my teeth. "Don't you mean, ‘will you marry me?’" I meant it to be funny, but his eyes brightened until the gold flecks were swimming in the darkness. "You had your chance to run, coyote. It's too late now.