Weird Quotes

There are people who are generic. They make generic responses and they expect generic answers. They live inside a box and they think people who don't fit into their box are weird. But I'll tell you what, generic people are the weird people. They are like genetically-manipulated plants growing inside a laboratory, like indistinguishable faces, like droids. Like ignorance.

I think everybody's weird. We should all celebrate our individuality and not be embarrassed or ashamed of it.

I never set out to be weird. It was always other people who called me weird.

That proves you are unusual," returned the Scarecrow; "and I am convinced that the only people worthy of consideration in this world are the unusual ones. For the common folks are like the leaves of a tree, and live and die unnoticed.

A girl’s got to use what she’s given and I’m not going to make a guy drool the way a Britney video does. So I take it to extremes. I don’t say I dress sexily on stage - what I do is so extreme. It’s meant to make guys think: ‘I don’t know if this is sexy or just weird.

We all know interspecies romance is weird.

All forms of madness, bizarre habits, awkwardness in society, general clumsiness, are justified in the person who creates good art.

Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.
In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.

So you're a little weird? Work it! A little different? OWN it! Better to be a nerd than one of the herd!

I'm very polite by nature, even the voices in my head let each other finish their sentences.

You say freak, I say unique.

I'm too wacky for most weirdos. Who am I to judge?

You just noticed? You're slow...

I'd rather be a little weird than all boring.

Look, this is all very, very weird. Why are you focusing on rumours and urban legends? You haven’t even asked me any
normal questions.
Normal questions? Like what?
Like, I don’t know, like if Lynch had any enemies.
Did Lynch have any enemies?
Well, not that I know of, no.
Then there really was no point in me asking that, was there? Unless you wanted to distract me. You didn’t want to distract me, did you, Kenny?
No, that’s not—
Are you playing a game with me, Kenny?
I don’t know what you’re—
Inspector Me leaned forward. Did you kill him?
No!
It’d be OK if you did.
Kenny recoiled, horrified. How would that be OK?
Well, Me said, maybe not

Weirdism is definitely the cornerstone of many an artist's career.

I'm looking into my past lives. I'm convinced some of them still owe me money.

Isn’t it so weird how the number of dead people is increasing even though the earth stays the same size, so that one day there isn’t going to be room to bury anyone anymore? For my ninth birthday last year, Grandma gave me a subscription to National Geographic, which she calls the National Geographic. She also gave me a white blazer, because I only wear white clothes, and it’s too big to wear so it will last me a long time. She also gave me Grandpa’s camera, which I loved for two reasons. I asked why he didn’t take it with him when he left her. She said, Maybe he wanted you to have it.
I said, But I was negative-thirty years old. She said, Still. Anyway, the fascinating thing was that I read in National Geographic that there are more people alive now than have died in all of human history. In other words, if everyone wanted to play Hamlet at once, they couldn’t, because there aren’t enough skulls!

I know that. What's your point?

We are all a little weird. And we like to think that there is always someone weirder. I mean, I am sure some of you are looking at me and thinking, Well, at least I am not as weird as you, and I am thinking, Well, at least I am not as weird as the people in the loony bin, and the people in the loony bin are thinking, Well, at least I am an orange.

My smile wavers as I revert to my natural state of being: nervous and weird.

I am weird, and you know what? That's OK. So are most interesting people.

…Tell me, has anything odd happened to you recently?
What do you mean, odd?'
Unusual. Deviating from the customary. Something outside the usual parameters of normalcy. An occurrence of unprecedented weird.

We look at each other with shy relief. It's the look two odd socks give when they recognise each other in the wild.

Yes I am weird, weird is good. Normal is overrated.

But please remember: this is only a work of fiction. The truth, as always, will be far stranger.

The simple truth is that you can understand the way you are. You can know and love and hate it. You can blame it, resent it, and nothing changes. In the end, you're just a part of it.

A demonic reaper asked to be my valentine and then killed his crazy ex-girlfriend to save my life. Tomorrow I was starting up antipsychotic meds.

It was strange, I reflected.. that even in the weirdest circumstances, the most troubling episodes of one's life, the greatest divides from home and familiarity, there were these moments of undeniable joy.

You fell off the tree of fucked-up-weird and slammed every branch on the way down.

Just as heart is a fountain of unspoken words,
the universe is a womb of wonder weird worlds.

The problem is normal was'nt in my DNA. I was destined to be forever freakish.

When you cross over into the weird stuff, there's no going back. Hector has a theory on it. Calls it the law of 'Anomalous Phenomena Attraction.' He explained it to me once. Didn't really pay attention, but it boils down to 'weird shit pulls in more weird shit.

It was a little weird that they were friends. But then, maybe freaks just tended to find each other.

He's going to be okay," said Quentin. "He has to. He's Tybalt. You'd be all weird and irritating if he wasn't around."
"Weird and irritating?" I raised an eyebrow. "What gives you that idea?"
Quentin shrugged. "That's already how you get when he isn't around.

I'm an ugly girl,
My face makes you hurl,
Sad I have it,
I should bag it.
Acne everywhere,
Unwanted facial hair.
I'm a relation to Frankenstein's creation.

Somewhere there are gardens where peacocks sing like nightingales, somewhere there are caravans of separated lovers traveling to meet each other; there are ruby fires on distant mountains, and blue comets that come in spring like sapphires in the black sky. If this is not so, meet me in the shameful yard, and we will plant a gallows tree, and swing like sad pendulums, never once touching.

Weird people don't care if they're weird. They are the most entertaining to converse with because nothing is off-limits.

You're weird,' he says.
Despite everythin, I smile. 'You're always saying that, but in fact, you're weird,' I say.
'Yeah, I know. Remember? That's how I can tell you're weird, too.

And even, if circumstances required, a contingency plan for his contingency plan's contingency plan.

I like weird. Conformity bores but is inescapable for the most part. We all follow something, even if it is following the goal of wanting to stand apart. We are a sea of ordinary people; it is always the quirk, the flaw or the ingenuity that stands out.

...people change, even good people, if they get the wrong thing in their head. And not everything is always what it looks like and sometimes just because one person looks weak, they might be very strong, and another person might look like a spooky freak but he might be one of the kindest people you'd ever meet. And I guess I learned that time is slippery...We have to enjoy every second, love with all our hearts, all we can, while we can.

Nobody is so weird others can't identify with them.

He rolled his eyes and took my hand. His hand was hard and calloused, tough with muscle and old scars.
The night settled around us like a blanket. I could hear the water lapping against the dock. We were totally alone.
You’re . . . , he began, and I waited, heart throbbing in my throat. Such a pain, he concluded.
What? I asked, just as his head swooped in and his mouth touched mine. I tried to speak, but one of
Fang’s hands held the back of my head, and he kept his lips pressed against me, kissing me softly but with a Fanglike determination.
Oh, jeez, I thought distractedly. Jeez, this is Fang, and me, and . . . Fang tilted his head to kiss me more deeply, and I felt totally lightheaded. Then I remembered to breathe through my nose, and the fog cleared a tiny bit. Somehow we were pressed together, Fang’s arms around me now, sliding under my
wings, his hands flat against my back.
It was incredible. I loved it. I loved him.
It was a total disaster.
Gasping, I pulled back. I, uh—, I began oh so coherently, and then I jumped up, almost knocking him
over, and raced down the dock. I took off, flying fast, like a rocket.

I didn't want to do it,' Kiala said. 'The universe just kind of conspired to force me to make a fool of myself. It does that quite a lot, actually.

I'm a lion in a strange land.

Hey, Ms. P," Tad called, "what's going on?"
She let out a slow breath before she answered. "You won't believe this... Brian Murrey tried to eat Scott Morgan."
Nick's eyes widened at the unexpected explanation. Had he heard that right?

Stuff that would be weird in the bright light of day just wasn't so much once you passed a certain hour.

You guys are weird," Tori said.
Simon sat on the crate beside me. "That's right. We are totally weird and completely uncool. Your popularity is plummeting just by being near us.

He liked being near that, that kind of brave and crazy.