Quotes & Sayings About Burps

History is a raw onion sandwich, it just repeats, it burps. We've seen it again and again this year. Same old story, Same old oscillation between tyranny and rebellion, war and peace, prosperity and impoverishment — Julian Barnes

Hello, spawn!" I coo at Kayla's baby brother as he waddles into her room. He burps at me.
"It looks like you guys speak the same language," Kayla quips.
"Where was that sass when Jack was making you cry at Avery's party?"
"Uh, hello? He's my crush? I'm not going to sass him."
"Flash 'em the sass before you flash 'em the ass."
"What kind of saying is that?" She laughs.
"Grandma-saying. She's the head of the motorcycle gang at her nursing home. — Sara Wolf

But as soon as the thought enters my mind, another one swims in and eats the first one like a shark. Fuck that, it burps. — Libba Bray

Truth, which is important to a scholar, has got to be concrete. And there is nothing more concrete than dealing with babies, burps and bottles, frogs and mud. — Jeane Kirkpatrick

Nothing burps better than bacon. — Ed O'Neill

You may marry the man of your dreams, ladies, but fourteen years later you're married to a couch that burps. — Roseanne Barr

Does history repeat itself, the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce? No, that's too grand, too considered a process. History just burps, and we taste again that raw-onion sandwich it swallowed centuries ago. — Julian Barnes

The author says his young son, adopted from South Korea, occasionally burps and says thank you but otherwise is doing all right. — Jim Bouton

One thing that I used to believe that has stuck with me is, of course, that farts are funny. Burps, too. Sneezes, even. Pretty much the whole gamut of bodily noises is a treasure trove of ready-made comedy. You gather a handful of small boys together and let them entertain themselves and there will be more sharp honks than an angry L.A. freeway. But there's a time and place for such fun, and every second of every day, no matter the location or company, turns out not to be the appropriate venue for a gastrointestinal symphony. — Greg Knauss

Bipolar disorder is about buying a dozen bottles of Heinz ketchup and all eight bottles of Windex in stock at the Food Emporium on Broadway at 4:00 a.m., flying from Zurich to the Bahamas and back to Zurich in three days to balance the hot and cold weather (my sweet and sour theory of bipolar disorder), carrying $20,000 in $100 bills in your shoes into the country on your way back from Tokyo, and picking out the person sitting six seats away at the bar to have sex with only because he or she happens to be sitting there. It's about blips and burps of madness, moments of absolute delusion, bliss, and irrational and dangerous choices made in order to heighten pleasure and excitement and to ensure a sense of control. The symptoms of bipolar disorder come in different strengths and sizes. Most days I need to be as manic as possible to come as close as I can to destruction, to get a real good high
a $25,000 shopping spree, a four-day drug binge, or a trip around the world. — Andy Behrman

The Simi gots some barbecue sauce in her bag. It kind of looks like blood if you squint at it the right way. And it don't coagulate between your teeth like blood or give you them funky burps, not to mention it tastes a lot better too. Especially over that type A stuff. Bleh! I'd rather eat my shoes. But that O-flavored blood ... yum! (She straightened and held one finger up in a gesture that strangely reminded him of Smokey the Bear.) And just remember, kids, three out of four demons all prefer barbecue sauce over hemoglobin. (Simi) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Mountains could be what happens when Father Earth eats something that doesn't agree with him. When he burps, mountains pop up."
"That's absurd," Keselo said, trying not to laugh.
"If you've got a better theory, I'd be happy to hear it," Red-Beard said mildly. "Anyway, a burp isn't anything but air that boils up out of a man's stomach, so Father Earth's mountains have chunks of empty air in the middle of them - burps that didn't quite manage to make it to the surface, you understand. — David Eddings

A grandparent is old on the outside but young on the inside. If your baby is "beautiful and perfect, never cries or fusses, sleeps on schedule and burps on demand, an angel all the time," you're the grandma. — Teresa Bloomingdale

Now journeys were not simple matters for Grace; nothing is simple if your mind is a fetch-and-carry wanderer from sliced perilous outer world to secret safe inner world; if when night comes your thought creeps out like a furred animal concealed in the dark, to fine, seize, and kill its food and drag it back to the secret house in the secret world, only to discover that the secret world has disappeared or has so enlarged that it's a public nightmare; if then strange beasts walk upside down like flies on the ceiling; crimson wings flap, the curtains fly; a sad man wearing a blue waistcoat with green buttons sits in the centre of the room, crying because he has swallowed the mirror and it hurts and he burps in flashes of glass and light; if crakes move and cry; the world is flipped, unrolled down in the vast marble stair; a stained threadbare carpet; the hollow silver dancing shoes, hunting-horns ... — Janet Frame

Not without a condom." He recoils like I've said something heinous that's offended his delicate little self. "Jesus, Nate, I don't have a death wish." "Nat or Natalie." "You called me BJ. I get to choose. I like Nate. I might even add a dog to the end of that. Nate-Dog. I like it." He burps and comes to the sink. He's — Erin Leigh

It's worth noting up front that I have always conceived of my mind as a digestive organ. A stomach for processing knowledge, if you will. As a looping, wrinkled mass, a human brain unmistakably looks like gray intestines, and it's within these thinking bowels that my experiences are broken down, consumed to become my life story. My thoughts occur as flavorful burps or acrid barf. The indigestible gristle and bone of my memories are expelled as these words. — Chuck Palahniuk

When he's connected up to your nervous system, you'll be able to make him whistle, hiss, roar, flap his wings, and spit sparks, though it may take a few days to assimilate him into your body picture. Don't be surprised if at first he just burps and looks seasick. Take your shirt off, please. — Samuel R. Delany

The sky grew darker, and the light abandoned the daytime, so that we found ourselves always moving in a timeless murk, the only way to discern the hour the taste of sour burps, toothpaste in the morning, redolent in the afternoon of the jellied beef of school cafetetria meals — Jeffrey Eugenides

People can tell what's in beer, eh? Like my brother can tell the difference between beers by what his burps taste like. — Bob McKenzie

I'd really like to find out if the queen burps or trumps. — Suzanne Shaw

We could start, perhaps, with the seemingly simple question, What is History? Any thoughts, Webster?' 'History is the lies of the victors,' I replied, a little too quickly. 'Yes, I was rather afraid you'd say that. Well, as long as you remember that it is also the self-delusions of the defeated. Simpson?' Colin was more prepared than me. 'History is a raw onion sandwich, sir.' 'For what reason?' 'It just repeats, sir. It burps. We've seen it again and again this year. Same old story, same old oscillation between tyranny and rebellion, war and peace, prosperity and impoverishment.' 'Rather a lot for a sandwich to contain, wouldn't you say?' We laughed far more than was required, with an end-of-term hysteria. 'Finn?' '"History is that certainty produced at the point where the imperfections of memory meet the inadequacies of documentation." ' 'Is it, indeed? Where did you find that?' 'Lagrange, sir. Patrick Lagrange. He's French. — Julian Barnes

Individuals who rate high on the so-called Anxiety Sensitivity Index, or ASI, have a high degree of what's known as interoceptive awareness, meaning they are highly attuned to the inner workings on their bodies, to the beepings and bleatings, the blips and burps, of their physiologies; they are more conscious of their heart rate, blood pressure, digestive burblings, and so forth than other people are. — Scott Stossel

When we were still living at home, all he ever drank was cola, huge amounts of it; he had no problem knocking back an entire king-size bottle at dinnertime. Then he would produce these gigantic belches, for which he was sometimes sent to his room, belches that lasted ten years or longer
like subterranean thunder rolling up and exploding from somewhere deep down in his stomach
and for which he enjoyed a certain schoolyard fame: among the boys, that is, for he knew even then that girls were only repulsed by burps and farts. — Herman Koch