Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Spurtle. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Spurtle Quotes And Sayings by 87 Authors including Kate Atkinson,J.k. Rowling,Stephen King,Terry Pratchett,Penny Reid for you to enjoy and share.
Slattern! What a wonderful new word. 'Slattern,' I murmur appreciatively to Patricia.
'Yes, slattern,' Bunty says firmly. 'That's what she is.'
'Not a slut like you then?' Patricia says very quietly. Loud enough to be heard, but too quiet to be believed.
GILDEROY LOCKHART T
Ware the man who fakes a limp.
Watching a dog try to chew a large piece of toffee is a pastime fit for gods. Mr. Fusspot's mixed ancestry had given him a dexterity of jaw that was truly awesome. He somersaulted happily around the floor, making faces like a rubber gargoyle in a washing machine.
Sir McHotpants Von Grabby Hands
I'm sorry. Are we interrupting your family time with this little inconsequential battle?"
Eve, Jaymin (2013-09-23). Spurn (A Walker Saga Book 2) (p. 386). . Kindle Edition.
Lumpyface Lumpyhead
gin daisy, which
hulkamanias runnin wild brother
It's going to take a shoehorn to prise these two teams apart
Shanks was the father figure but Roger Hunt was something special. It might sound daft but just picking up his sweaty kit gave me satisfaction.
O honorable strumpet
Lord Chiltern Rides His Horse Bonebreaker
Smeagol won't grub for roots and carrotses and - taters. What's taters,precious, eh, what's taters?"
"Po-ta-toes!" said Sam.
Get you gone, you dwarf,
You minimus of hindering knotgrass made,
You bead, you acorn!
Tritons Trident!
fishhook. It's squiggly like a worm. Something's
Well, of all the bacon-brained, sapskulled, squirish, buffle-headed nodcocks!
Host: What say you to young Master Fenton? he capers, he
dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verses, he
speaks holiday, he smells April and May: he will
carry't, he will carry't; 'tis in his buttons; he
will carry't.
jessamine. Flowering
Owr brave little shank!
Sir McCoolpants Von No Touchy
Someone broke from the scrum and, punching and kicking, staggered towards the Klatchian goal.
"Isn't that man your butler?" said Ahmed.
"Yes."
"One of your soldiers said he bit a man's nose off."
Vimes shrugged. "He's got a very pointed look if I don't use the sugar tongs, I know that.
Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told them briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus - "
"The what?" said Seamus Finnigan, sounding revolted.
"Pus, Finnigan, pus," said Professor Sprout.
Nothing odd will do long. Tristram Shandy did not last.
Shitfire, parson! And I mean thet sincerely!
Buju Banton plays
He was not at the moment in very good odour at Bow Street. Such epithets as Blockhead and Blunderer had been used in connection with his last case. 'Jeremiah Stubbs, miss,' said the Runner. 'I am here in the execution of my dooty.
What about Wee Squirl? --Rose MacDonell
From here on in, I rag nobodyRag-- Mark Harris
I'm justrong>sstrong>t like my fanstrong>sstrong>, and that'strong>sstrong> the way I like it.
What in the name of Voldy's pasty-white rear end was that?
An eye-jangling assortment of spurious clan tartans, adorning every conceivable object made of fabric, from caps, neckties, and serviettes down to a particularly horrid yellow "Buchanan" sett used to make men's nylon Y-front underpants.
He was a dandy with on eear cocked, a gleam on his claw and a glint in his eye. He sauntered through the market square elegant and tattered, admired and cursed: a highwayman, a gentleman thief. His name was Taggle, for the three kittens had been Raggle, Taggle, and Bone.
I would run through brick walls for Spurs.
The Englishman foxtrots as he fox-hunts, with all his being, through thickets, through ditches, over hedges, through chiffons, through waiters, over saxophones, to the victorious finish; and who goes home depends on how many the ambulance will accommodate.
Hurry up, Hodgeyboy! You run like a fat badger after Sunday tea." Mibbitwiss
A good horse should be seldom spurred.
doting, the guy on the sideline at
StocktontoMalone
Halifax against Spurs, the original David against Goliath confrontation
Gilderoy Lockhart
misbegotten cockwaffle.
I wish I had some stock in a scrunchie company.
Blast-Ended Skrewts for a walk than
Sits bits unhitch!
Colin Meads is the kind of player you expect to see emerging from a ruck with the remains of a jockstrap between his teeth.
We have to get out of here, Bram. Before they take our bollocks and use them for pincushions.
tee that stretched taut against his powerful
I say and maintain, that of all torcheculs, arsewisps, bumfodders, tail-napkins, bunghole cleansers, and wipe-breeches, there is none in the world comparable to the neck of a goose ...
First catch your Boer, then kick him.
Stout as a horse
That leaves Decker and what's his name, Mr. I'm Too Sexy for My Shirt.
O ill-starred wench! Pale as your smock!
Cole - For the fifth labour what better treat than to sling giant chunks of dung
Joys are our wings, sorrows our spurs.
The Satisfactions of the Mad Farmer ... the quiet in the woods of a summer morning, the voice of a pewee passing through it like a tight silver wire; ...
Easy there, Smurfette.
Spike (to Giles) : Oh, poor Watcher. Did your life pass before your eyes - 'Cuppa tea, cuppa tea ... almost got shagged ... cuppa tea'?
Stupid Fucking Logan Fucking Matthews
Scotland: That garret of the earth - that knuckle-end of England - that land of Calvin, oatcakes, and sulfur.
Orange, Longbottom.
Is it just me, or is spooge the single least attractive synonym for dickglue?
Blasted doorknob of a kender
Shove that filthy spike
We ought to call it something,' said Banokles thoughtfully. 'We can't just keep calling it "that big bastard horse". It ought to have a name.' 'What do you suggest?' - 'Arse Face.
Don't you mean, witch?
The smylere with the knyf under the cloke.
At this rate, he was going to have the strongest tail tip of any Rownt living.
Let the boy win his spurs.
Bosh. I find a rival - but no, I won't flatter myself that Tecumseh Fox would consider himself a rival of Dol Bonner - I find an eminent detective in your apartment, and that alone is enough, without adding that he is concealed in your bedroom while I am discussing my business with you ...
Is John Motson still wearing his shepherdskin coat?
The horses have stopped
their clippity-clop,
but feet are too slow
for where I must go.
So here I shall stay
until light of day
when clippity-clop
gets my team underway.
Continue to spur a running horse.
will-o'-the-wisp
Roland G. Fryer Jr., while discussing his names research on a radio show, took a call from a black woman who was upset with the name just given to her baby niece. It was pronounced shuh-TEED but was in fact spelled "Shithead.
Philo Vance / Needs a kick in the pance.
Feather-footed through the plashy fen passes the questing vole.'
William Boot
Bubba the Sheep Squeezer in
'Sblood, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neat's tongue, you bull's pizzle, you stock-fish! O for breath to utter what is like thee! you tailor's-yard, you sheath, you bowcase; you vile standing-tuck!
Aye, aye, it must be so. I've oversailed him. How, got the start? Aye, he's chasing ME now; not I, HIM
that's bad
Puddings, my dear sir?' cried Graham.
Puddings. We trice 'em athwart the starboard gumbrils, when sailing by and large.
Irish-sparkle-fish,-- Anne Eliot
GINGER: The hand that rocks the craddle rules the world.
BONGI: That's a slick little maxim - while the hand's rocking the craddle it won't be rocking the boat.
The love of fame puts spurs to the mind
Stutter, stutter!
Thunder and turf!
Derby born and bred, mate.
My team name is the Duchess of Douchecockery.Yep, that's mine.
My foot is on my native heath, and my name is MacGregor.
Thou weedy elf-skinned canker-blossom!
Twig-minx!" it screamed. "scrap-brat!
some evil old ruffian of a Dog-stealer
Thurst [thrust] out nature with a croche [crook], yet woll she styll runne back agayne.
What scrunched under our overshoes as we trudged through the stubble of the grainfield was the nasty mix of moistureless snow and windblown dirt that we called snirt.
Beate the dog before the Lyon.
AT THE SOUND of the bell, Sir John forgot all ills. "Squire Shallow," he shouted merrily, "the lunch bell calls. Come along and don't forget to bring the bottle of sack. We shall share a celebratory glass over the wizard's hide. High Ho! Off to R-O-O-O-ASTING a wizard we must go!
Have a biscuit, Potter.
Buckler, a lean hack, and a greyhound for coursing. An olla
Schist," said an angry voice from the grass. Hazel raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?" "Schist! Big pile of schist!