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Toilet Quotes

Browse 45 quotes about Toilet.

Toilet Quotes

“One of the main functions of a push-up bra is to lower the number of mothers who seem like mothers.”

“For breakfast to be called ‘in bed’ instead of ‘on top of a bed,’ the house in which it is about to be eaten has to have at least two rooms (excluding the kitchen); (at least) three, if it has a bathroom.”

“I was also sick of my neighbors, as most Parisians are. I now knew every second of the morning routine of the family upstairs. At 7:00 am alarm goes off, boom, Madame gets out of bed, puts on her deep-sea divers’ boots, and stomps across my ceiling to megaphone the kids awake. The kids drop bags of cannonballs onto the floor, then, apparently dragging several sledgehammers each, stampede into the kitchen. They grab their chunks of baguette and go and sit in front of the TV, which is always showing a cartoon about people who do nothing but scream at each other and explode. Every minute, one of the kids cartwheels (while bouncing cannonballs) back into the kitchen for seconds, then returns (bringing with it a family of excitable kangaroos) to the TV. Meanwhile the toilet is flushed, on average, fifty times per drop of urine expelled. Finally, there is a ten-minute period of intensive yelling, and at 8:15 on the dot they all howl and crash their way out of the apartment to school.” (p.137)”

“I stare past her at the inspirational kitten posters. There's one of a soaking-wet kitten climbing out of a toilet with the caption "it could be worse!" "Just tell me whatever it is you're thinking," Mrs. Paulsen says. "Whatever is going through your mind right now." "I hope they didn't actually drop a cat in the toilet to get that picture," I choke out. "...Pardon?" "Nothing. Sorry.”

“Уся відвага суспільства виливалася саме там, на туалетній стіні. — Інтимні туалетні революції. От тобі й відвага, от тобі й суспільство. Тільки всираючись від страху, вони напишуть «ганьба Т. Ж.» чи «їбати БКП». Навіть не кажи. Отаке все наше довбане дисидентство. Єдиним громадським місцем, де ці люди протестували, були громадські туалети.”

“I used to think that size does not count, until I realized that most people either find other people’s faeces more disgusting than a bird’s droppings, or they do not find the latter disgusting at all.”

“Seeing his daughter slowly die, coupled with his infinite sadness and misery, the clockmaker becomes a recluse to the tower of the castle and begins to build something behind closed doors, not even his daughter knows what he’s up to. For five years, she only sees him briefly at meal-times before locking himself up in the tower once again..." "...Did he have a bathroom in the tower?" "Yes, Jack. A big one! En-suite! Power-shower and spa! Where was I!?”

“He opened his laptop and showed me a picture of a “cozy” Greenwich Village apartment he’d found online. My dad, a born New Yorker, had told me stories of the Village, a lively network of cobblestone streets and jazz dives, coffee houses and folk clubs with no cover fee—and I felt a surge of light-headed ambition. “Though it’s kind of strange,” Justin continued, “there is no bathroom inside. Our toilet would be down a public hallway.”

“MARY: Catherine! Is it necessary to include such a detail? CATHERINE: Do you expect our readers to believe that we had no bodily needs or functions for entire days at a time? MARY: No, but such things are simply—unstated. They go without saying. CATHERINE: It’s very fashionable now to include realistic details, no matter how unpleasant or improper. Look at the French writers. Look at Émile Zola. MARY: We are not French.”

“Six thirty and I could hear the gulls coming and going over the cliff and the now familiar early-morning battle with boots and tent flaps took far too long. As soon as I stood up I was overwhelmed. Not only by the desire to sit on a white, shiny, flushing toilet, but mainly by a wave of vertigo. Somehow in the dark and fog of the night before we had pitched the tent two meters from the edge of the cliff. Tent, path, scrap of grass, hundred-meter-drop. I regained my balance and looked for somewhere slightly disguised. All I could see was an open hillside with a small clump of gorse bushes. There was no waiting; it would have to do. I frantically tried to dig a hole with the heel of my boot - we hadn't carried a trowel for this, far too much weight and anyway we'd always find a public toilet. My thumb ripped through the waist of my leggings in the rush as I squatted behind the spikey sharp gorse with as much relief as Renton in 'Trainspotting'... 'Morning. You found somewhere to camp then?”

“Elena opens the door and yanks me through the house, stopping only when we reach the backyard. She lets me go only to grab the microphone from the lead singer. "Paco!" she announces loudly. "Yeah, I'm talkin' to you," Elena says, pointing to Paco talking to a bunch of girls. "Next time you want to take a dump, do it in someone else's house." Paco's entourage of girls backs up and giggles, leaving him alone.”