Quotes about Irony

The street called Straight is straighter than a corkscrew, but not as straight as a rainbow. St. Luke is careful not to commit himself; he does not say it is the street which is straight, but the "street which is called Straight." It is a fine piece of irony; it is the only facetious remark in the Bible, I believe.

If you're saying farewell to your arms, what do you use to wave goodbye?

Life has a funny way of turning you into the one thing you don't want to be.

Many atheistic scientists insist there is never any reason to speculate beyond the universe of matter and energy, because there is nothing beyond that. They insist that the universe is all that is. The problem is that they cannot by any means prove this scientifically, so for them to make this claim at all is itself "unscientific." Ironically, in doing so, such scientists are themselves reaching beyond the world of science.

America is such a paradoxical society, hypocritically paradoxical, that if you don't have some humor, you'll crack up.

My political ideal is democracy. Let every man be respected as an individual and no man idolized. It is an irony of fate that I myself have been the recipient of excessive admiration and reverence from my fellow-beings, through no fault, and no merit, of my own. The cause of this may well be the desire, unattainable for many, to understand the few ideas to which I have with my feeble powers attained through ceaseless struggle.

That horrible Benito Hoover! And yet the man had meant well enough. Which only made it, in a way, much worse. Those who meant well behaved in the same way as those who meant badly.

The irony of the empty soul is that while he is perpetually dissatisfied in so many areas, he is so easily satisfied in regard to the pursuit of God.

Life wants you to serve something more than yourself. When you serve something more than yourself, you are served. It's the most ironic thing in the world.

The trees taunt you; the sand mocks you; the water calls your name... and they say golf is a quiet game

In 1913, when Anthony Patch was twenty-five, two years were already gone since irony, the Holy Ghost of this later day, had, theoretically at least, descended upon him. Irony was the final polish of the shoe, the ultimate dab of the clothes-brush, a sort of intellectual There!—yet

In the foreground four solemn men in dress suits are walking along the sidewalk with a stretcher on which lies a drunken woman in a white evening dress. Her hand, which dangles over the side, sparkles cold with jewels. Gravely the men turn in at a house - the wrong house. But no one knows the woman's name, and no one cares.