Khalida1w/funny_quotes huggingface dataset:
“So, who won the fight?' Cassian asked the next morning as she sat on her rock and watched him go through his exercises.He hadn't asked at breakfast about the black eye and cut chin or how stiffly she'd moved. Neither had Mor upon her arrival. That the bruising and cuts remained at all told Nesta how bad the fall had been, but as High Fae, with her improved healing, they were already on the mend....'What fight?' She examined her mangled nails. Even with the... whatever it was she'd flung out to catch herself, her nails had cracked. She didn't let herself name what had come from within her, didn't let herself acknowledge it. By dawn, it had been strangled into submission.'The one between you and the stairs.'Nesta cut him a glare. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'Cassian began moving once more, drawing his sword and running through a series of movements that all seemed designed to hack a person in two. 'You know: three in the morning, you leave your room to get shit-faced drunk in town, and you're in such a rush to conquer the steps that you fall down a good thirty of them before you can stop yourself.'Had he seen the step? The handprint?She demanded. 'How do you know that?'He shrugged.'Are you watching me?' Before he could answer, she spat. 'You were watching and didn't come to help?'Cassian shrugged again. 'You stopped falling. If you'd kept at it, someone would have eventually come to catch you before you hit the bottom.'She hissed at him.He only grinned and beckoned with a hand. 'Want to join me?''I should push you down those stairs.'...'Well?' he demanded, an edge creeping into his voice. 'If you've got those glorious bruises, you might as well claim it came from training and not a pathetic tumble.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“Politicians are like child services, he thinks. Ultimately useful, but a pain in the ass all the way there.”
— Dot Hutchinson
“There should be Oscars for real life, and we should give them to all the people who are still married.”
— Hannah Moskowitz,
“Nice clean cut," Santos said, and Louise almost said thank you but managed to stop herself.”
— Grady Hendrix,
“Stop scratching,' Rhys said without looking at him as they strode through a blooming apple orchard. No wings to be seen today.Cassian lowered his hands from his chest. 'I can't help it if this place makes my skin crawl.'Rhys snorted, gesturing to one of the blooming trees above them, petals falling thick as snow. 'The feared general, felled by seasonal allergies.Cassian gave an unnecessarily loud sniffle, earning a full chuckle from Rhys.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“The House had dinner waiting on her desk, along with a book. Apparently, it had noted her request for a book the other day and deemed The Great War too dull. The title of this one was suitably smutty. 'I didn't know you had dirty taste,' Nesta said wryly.The House only responded by running a bath.'Dinner, bath, and a book,' Nesta said aloud, shaking her head in something close to awe. 'It's perfect. Thank you.'The House said nothing, but when she stepped into her bathroom, she found that it wasn't an ordinary bath. The House had added an assortment of oils that smelled of rosemary and lavender. She breathed in the heady, beautiful scent and sighed.'I think you might be my only friend,' Nesta said, then groaned her way into the tub's welcoming warmth.The House was apparently so pleased by her words that as soon as she lay back, a tray appeared across the width of the tub. Laden with a massive piece of chocolate cake.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“Kalam knelt beside Quick Ben, studied the man’s face for a moment, the slack expression, the closed eyes. Then he slapped the wizard. Hard. Quick Ben swore, then glared up at the assassin. ‘I should crush you like a bug, Kalam.’ ‘Right now, I think,’ he rumbled in reply, ‘a bug’s fart might blow you right off this ship, Quick.”
— Steven Erikson,
“The House had a taste for romance novels. Nesta stayed up later than she should have to finish the one it had left the day before, and when she returned to her room that evening, another was waiting.'Don't tell me you somehow read these?' She leafed through the volume on her nightstand.In answer, two more books thumped on the surface. Each one utterly filthy.Nesta let out a small chuckle. 'It must get awfully dull up here.'A third book plopped atop the others.Nesta laughed again, a rusty, hoarse sound. She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed. A true, belly-deep laugh.Maybe before her mother had died. She'd certainly had nothing to laugh about once they'd fallen into poverty.Nesta nodded toward the desk. 'No dinner tonight?'Her bedroom door only swung open to reveal the dimly lit hallway.'I've had enough of him for one day.' She'd barely been able to speak to Cassian for the rest of their lesson, unable to stop thinking of how he'd put up a wall without her so much as saying a word, anticipating that she would go after him, assuming that she was so awful she couldn't have a normal conversation. That she'd mock him about his mother and their pain.'I'd rather stay here.'The door opened wider.Nesta sighed. Her stomach ached with hunger. 'You're as much a busybody as the rest of them,' she muttered, and aimed for the dining room.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“How was the library?' he asked as she claimed the seat across from him.'Nothing tried to eat me today, so it was fine.'...He'd gone still, though. 'Something tried to eat you on another day?''Well, it didn't get close enough to try, but that was the general impression I received.'He blinked, his Siphons glowing. 'Tell me.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“The book,' Nesta said, a bit breathlessly, 'is about...' Her nostrils flared and her eyes went a bit unfocused. 'A book.''Interesting,' Cassian murmured. 'Sounds great.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“Just so you're aware,' Mor chirped from the other side, 'We do have to go soon.'...'We have thirty minutes,' he said with remarkable smoothness.'And it takes you two hours to get dressed,' Mor quipped through the door. A sly pause. 'And I'm not talking about Feyre.'...'Go terrorise someone else,' he called to Mor, rolling his neck as his wings vanished and he stalked for the bathing room. 'I need to primp.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“Emerie had drifted a few feet away, her back straight, chin upraised.He'd seen Nesta in this particular pose, too. He called it her I Will Slay My Enemies post.Cassian had named about two dozen poses for Nesta at this point. Ranging from I Will Eat Your Eyes for Breakfast to I Don't Want Cassian to Know I'm Reading Smut. The latter was his particular favourite.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“I don't know if I can do this.Rhys went quiet for a moment. Do you want me to come with you?To paint?I'd be an excellent nude model.I smiled, not caring that I was by myself in the street with countless people streaming past me. My hood concealed most of my face, anyway. You'll forgive me if I don't feel like sharing the glory that is you with anyone else.Perhaps I'll model for you later, then. A sensuous brush down the bond that had my blood heating. It's been a while since we had paint involved.The cabin and kitchen table flashed into my mind, and my mouth went a bit dry. Rogue.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“We tested him—he’s innocent.”“They tied me to a bed,” James said”
— Cassandra Clare,
“What the hell is that?'Cassian was grinning that next evening as he waved a hand toward the pile of pine boughs dumped on the ornate red rug in the centre of the foyer. 'Solstice decorations. Straight from the market.'Snow clung to his broad shoulders and dark hair, and his tan cheeks were flushed with cold. 'You call that a decoration?He smirked. 'A heap of pine in the middle of the floor is Night Court tradition.'I crossed my arms. 'Funny.''I'm serious.' I glared, and he laughed. 'It's for the mantels, the banister, and whatever else, smartass. Want to help?' He shrugged off his heavy coat, revealing a black jacket and shirt beneath, and hung it in the hall closet. I remained where I was and tapped my foot.'What?' he said, brows rising. It was rare to see Cassian in anything but his Illyrian leathers, but the clothes, while not as fine as anything Rhys or Mor usually favoured, suited him.'Dumping a bunch of trees at my feet is really how you say hello these days? A little time in that Illyrian camp and you forget all your manners.'Cassian was on me in a second, hoisting me off the ground to twirl me until I was going to be sick. I beat at his chest, cursing at him.Cassian set me down at last. 'What did you get me for Solstice?'I smacked his arm. 'A heaping pile of shut the hell up.' He laughed again, and I winked at him. 'Hot cocoa or wine?'Cassian curved a wing around me, turning us toward the cellar door. 'How many good bottles does little Rhysie have left?”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“Azriel straightened a sagging section of garland over the windowsill. 'It's almost like you two tried to make it as ugly as possible.'Cassian clutched at his heart. 'We take offense to that.'Azriel sighed at the ceiling.'Poor Az,' I said, pouring myself another glass. 'Wine will make you feel better.'He glared at me, then the bottle, then Cassian... and finally stormed across the room, took the bottle from my hand, and chugged the rest. Cassian grinned with delight.Mostly because Rhys drawled from the doorway, 'Well, at least now I know who's drinking all my good wine. Want another one, Az?'Azriel nearly spewed the wine into the fire, but maybe himself swallow and turn, red-faced, to Rhys. 'I would like to explain-'Rhys laughed, the rich sound bouncing off the carved oak moldings of the room. 'Five centuries, and you think I don't know that if my wine's gone, Cassian's usually behind it?'Cassian raised his glass in a salute.Rhys surveyed the room and chuckled. 'I can tell exactly which ones you two did, and which ones Azriel tried to fix before I got here.' Azriel was indeed now rubbing his temple. Rhys lifted a brow at me. 'I expected better from an artist.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“You look like an angry snowball.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“Are you just going to hold that chicken all night?' Cassian asked me from the table.Scowling, I stomped towards him, plunking the platter onto the wooden surface. 'I spat in it,' I said sweetly.'Makes it all the more delicious,' Cassian crooned, smiling right back.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“Azriel straightened a sagging section of garland over the windowsill. 'It's almost like you two tried to make it as ugly as possible.'Cassian clutched at his heart. 'We take offense to that.'Azriel sighed at the ceiling.'Poor Az,' I said, pouring myself another glass. 'Wine will make you feel better.'He glared at me, then the bottle, then Cassian... and finally stormed across the room, took the bottle from my hand, and chugged the rest. Cassian grinned with delight.Mostly because Rhys drawled from the doorway, 'Well, at least now I know who's drinking all my good wine. Want another one, Az?'Azriel nearly spewed the wine into the fire, but made himself swallow and turn, red-faced, to Rhys. 'I would like to explain-'Rhys laughed, the rich sound bouncing off the carved oak moldings of the room. 'Five centuries, and you think I don't know that if my wine's gone, Cassian's usually behind it?'Cassian raised his glass in a salute.Rhys surveyed the room and chuckled. 'I can tell exactly which ones you two did, and which ones Azriel tried to fix before I got here.' Azriel was indeed now rubbing his temple. Rhys lifted a brow at me. 'I expected better from an artist.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“It’s a fact that men don’t need words, but women do. We have penises, after all. Who needs words when you have a penis? Whereas with women there are two breasts, which invites conversation, just as a good behind presents perfect punctuation, something every man knows . What’s wrong with the world? You ask a man and he says, ‘Don’t ask.’ Ask a woman and you’ll be dead of old age before she’s finished. Hah. Hah ha.”
— Steven Erikson,
“Pick on someone your own size, 'Cassian said to Amren, shoveling roast chicken into his mouth.'I'd feel bad for the mice,' Azriel muttered.Mor and Cassian howled...”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“Rhys kissed my brow. 'If someone propositions you, tell them we'll both be free in an hour.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“What did you get Feyre?'I slid my hands into my pockets. 'This and that.''So, nothing.'I dragged a hand through my hair. 'Nothing. Any ideas?”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“I'm not afraid of them.''I know you're not.''I just- being near them, together...' She shoved her hands into her pockets. 'It's probably what it feels like for you to be around Tamlin.''If it's any consolation, cousin, I behaved rather poorly the other day.''Is he dead?''No.''Then I'd say you controlled yourself admirably.'I laughed. 'Bloodthirsty of you, Mor.'She shrugged, again watching the river. 'He deserves it.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“A jigsaw puzzle?'Amren fitted a tiny piece into the section she'd been working on. 'Am I supposed to be doing something else during my Solstice holiday?”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“Good for the mind, but bad for the posture.''Good thing you have Varian to exercise with.'Amren laughed, the sound like a crow's caw. 'Good thing indeed.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“You brought weapons to Solstice?' I asked, leaning against the door frame....Cassian shrugged, plopping onto the bed, which was better suited to a child than an Illyrian warrior. 'Some might be gifts.''And the rest?'Cassian toed off his boots and leaned against the headboard, folding his arms behind his head as his wings draped to the floor. 'The females bring their jewelry. I bring my weapons.''I know a few females in this house who might take offense to that.'Cassian offered me a wicked grin in response.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“Jace was weak as he watched Devon get rejected throughout the night. He saw drinks damn near get tossed on dude, and he even got threatened a few times. Jace sat there on some chill shit though, sippin' and observing all the other fucked-upness going on around him. To his right were three fat chicks, all busting out their cheap outfits. To his left was a lame that looked like he was searching for Wi-Fi, probably so he could get on IG. Straight ahead was a table of rundown bitches in a huddle, sharing one drink between 'em, snapping pictures. And peppered throughout VIP were the dl dudes that were giving him just as much rhythm as the girls were. Ewww!”
— Nick Haskins,
“A present. Wrapped in black crepe paper and tied with silver thread. And beside it, smiling down at me, was Rhys.He'd propped his head on a fist, his wings draped across the bed behind him. 'Happy birthday, Feyre darling.'I groaned. 'How are you smiling after all that wine?''I didn't have a whole bottle to myself, that's how.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“I want to draw you,' I said. 'As my birthday present to me.'His smile was positively feline.I added, flipping open my sketchbook and turning to the first page, 'You said once that nude would be best.'Rhys's eyes glowed, and a whisper of his power through the room had the curtains parting, flooding the space with midmorning sunshine. Showing every glorious naked inch of him sprawled across the bed, illuminating the faint reds and golds of his wings. 'Do your worst, Cursebreaker.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“Please bring him back in one piece.''We'll take good care of him,' Cassian promised, wicked humour in his eyes.Even Azriel was still grinning as he said, 'If he can keep up.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“They're having a snowball fight.'Another nod.'Three Illyrian warriors,' I said. 'The greatest Illyrian warriors. Are having a snowball fight.'Mor's eyes practically glowed with wicked delight. 'Since they were children.''They're over five hundred years old.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“It's bad form to be at attention while in the birchin.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“Az, this one's for you.'The shadowsinger's brows lifted, but his scarred hand extended to take the present.Elain turned from where she'd been spreaking to Nesta. 'Oh, that's from me.'Azriel's face didn't so much as shift at the words. Not even a smile as he opened the present and revealed-'I had Madja make it for me,' Elain explained. Azriel's brows narrowed at the mention of the family's preferred healer. 'It's a powder to mix in with any drink.'Silence.Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. 'It's for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.'Silence again.Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed.I'd never heard such a sound, deep and joyous. Cassian and Rhys joined him, the former grabbing the bottle from Azriel's hand and examining it. 'Brilliant, 'Cassian said.Elain smiled again, ducking her head.Azriel mastered himself enough to say, 'Thank you.' I'd never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and grey like veins of emerald. 'This will be invaluable.''Prick, ' Cassian said, but laughed again.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“I don’t know!”“Tell me or I will not complete your customer service survey.”Pete gasped.”
— Rick Riordan,
“An atomic bomb went off in my chest. My vision of a calm summer, page-flipping in thebackyard disintegrated. Camp. Tons of people. Cheesy team building. With tons of people.-Andy and the Extroverts”
— Jessica K. Foster
“A great elk lay dead on the long worktable in the centre of the dark space, the arrow through its throat illumined by the watery light leaking through the small windows. Blood pooled on the grey stone floor, its drip the only sound.The only sound as Tamlin sat in a chair before it. Staring at the felled beast.'Your dinner is leaking,' I told him by way of greeting, nodding toward the mess gathering on the floor.No reply. The High Lord of Spring didn't so much as up at me.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“Accidents happen in the Rite, I'd only suggested when Cass's face had tightened with the news.We won't dishonour the Rite by tampering with it, was his only reply.Accidents happen in the skies all the time, then, Azriel had coolly countered.If the whelp wants to bust my balls, he can grow a pair himself and do it to my face, Cassian had growled, and that was that.”
— Sarah J. Maas,
“In spring, when his allergy to pollen became unbearable, he would cover his face with a gas mask (the British government had distributed them throughout the population at the start of the war), sowing panic among those who saw him pass and imagined an attack was imminent.”
— Benjamín Labatut,
“Go perch on a chimney.”
— Sarah J. Maas,