Funny Desk Quotes & Sayings

I have the reports from Gemson and Boyd," Syn replied. His boots were up on the corner of his desk as he reclined back in his chair, skimming the contents of the file.

"How are they?" God asked. He removed his leather coat and draped it over the back of his chair.

"Detailed. Good," Syn answered. He brought his feet down and gave God a pointed look.

The big man shook his head, already knowing what Syn wanted. He wanted everything they knew about this case. Now.

"Alright Syn. Chill out. We're not used to you yet. But we know what it means to have a Sergeant on our team. You're the team's go to, and have just as much command and input regarding decision making as we do," Day responded as God stared. Day chuckled. "Tito was just as important as the other Jacksons."

Syn threw a pen at Day, which he dodged easily. Syn couldn't help but laugh at Day's fucked up comparison. "I'm no fucking Tito, shithead. — A.E. Via

Michael is a funny character, for whom I have a great deal of affection. He sat across his desk and seemed to be a bit of a blunt fellow. We began talking about the characters and he opened up about his vision. — Madeleine Stowe

A clean desk is a sign of a cluttered desk drawer. — Mark Twain

Ivanov: I am a bad, pathetic and worthless individual. One needs to be pathetic, too, worn out and drained by drink, like Pasha, to be still fond of me and to respect me. My God, how I despise myself! I so deeply loathe my voice, my walk, my hands, these clothes, my thoughts. Well, isn't that funny, isn't that shocking? Less than a year ago I was healthy and strong, I was cheerful, tireless, passionate, I worked with these very hands, I could speak to move even Philistines to tears, I could cry when I saw grief, I became indignant when I encountered evil. I knew inspiration, I knew the charm and poetry of quiet nights when from dusk to dawn you sit at your desk or indulge you mind with dreams. I believed, I looked into the future as into the eyes of my own mother ... And now, my God, I am exhausted, I do not believe, I spend my days and nights in idleness. — Anton Chekhov

Stop calling me a Nazi." "Why should I?" Miles's hand came down on the desk. "Because the systematic slaughter of millions of people isn't funny! — Francesca Zappia

No,' Dahlia said, 'because I think people like him think work is supposed to be drudgery punctuated by very occasional moments of happiness, but when I say happiness, I mostly mean distraction. You know what I mean?'

'No, please elaborate.'

'Okay, say you go into the break room,' she said, 'and a couple people you like are there, say someone's telling a funny story, you laugh a little, you feel included, everyone's so funny, you go back to your desk with a sort of, I don't know, I guess afterglow would be the word? You go back to your desk with an afterglow, but then by four or five o'clock the day's just turned into yet another day, and you go on like that, looking forward to five o'clock and then the weekend and then your two or three annual weeks of paid vacation time, day in day out, and that's what happens to your life. — Emily St. John Mandel

Looks like we have quite the predicament here, boys." I smile at both of them, then eye the coffee in Breckin's hands. "I see the Mormon brought the queen her offering of coffee. Very impressive."
I look at Holder and cock my eyebrow. "Do you wish to reveal your offering, hopeless boy, so that I may decide who shall accompany me at the classroom throne today?"
Breckin looks at me like I've lost my mind. Holder laughs and picks his backpack up off the desk. "Looks like someone's in need of an ego-shattering text today. — Colleen Hoover

What I remember most clearly is how it felt. I'd just finished painting a red fire engine-like the one I often walked past near my grandparents' house. Suddenly the teachers, whose names I've long forgotten, closed in on my desk. They seemed unusually impressed, and my still dripping fire engine was immediately and ceremoniously pinned up. I don't know what they might have said, but their unexpected attention and having something I'd made given a place of honor on the wall created an overwhelming and totally unfamiliar sense of pride inside me. I loved that feeling, and I wanted to feel it again and again. That desire, I suppose, was the beginning of my career.
I have no idea where my fire engine painting ended up, but I never forgot the basic layout. Several decades later, it served as the inspiration for this sketch for an illustration in a book called Why the chicken crossed the Road. — David Macaulay

Most of you Mistborn are probably too proud to crawl. I'm surprised you were willing to do so yourself."
"Too proud to crawl?" Kelsier said. "Nosense! Why, I'd say that we Mistborn are too proud not to be humble enough to go crawling about--in a dignified manner, of course."
Dockson frowned, approaching the desk. "Kell, that didn't make any sense."
"We Mistborn need not make sense. — Brandon Sanderson

I shrugged. "Actually, I didn't tell her much of anything. She must've put two and two together all on her own and come up with you being a jerk face."
His gaze slid back to me and he grinned. "Ouch, shortie."
"Yeah, like that really bothered you." I glanced back through the small window in the door that led to bio. Mr. Tucker was already at his desk - was Mrs. Cleo ever coming back? - and we only had a minute, tops, before the tardy bell rang. "What did you want?"
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a thin slip of yellow paper, waving it in my face. "Guess what I found?"
"Obviously not a better personality," I remarked.
"Ha. Funny." He brushed the edge of the paper across my nose and smiled when I smacked it away. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Your perception is riveting, Amal," he says in a bored and sarcastic tone, dropping the note down on my desk. "It's comforting to know that there are people in my class who have the maturity and intelligence to make derogatory comments about other people's external appearances."
Now what am I supposed to say to that?
"What do you have to say for yourself?"
Friggin' mind reader. — Randa Abdel-Fattah

A molehill man is a pseudo-busy executive who comes to work at 9 AM and finds a molehill on his desk. He has until 5 PM to make this molehill into a mountain. An accomplished molehill man will often have his mountain finished before lunch. — Fred Allen

Is it true you shouted at Professor Umbridge?'
'Yes,' said Harry.
'You called her a liar?'
'Yes.'
'You told her He Who Must Not Be Named is back?'
'Yes.'
Professor McGonagall sat down behind her desk, watching Harry closely. Then she said, 'Have a biscuit, Potter. — J.K. Rowling

If I didn't have my parents to think about I'd have given in my notice a long time ago, I'd have gone up to the boss and told him just what I think, tell him everything I would, let him know just what I feel. He'd fall right off his desk! And it's a funny sort of business to be sitting up there at your desk, talking down at your subordinates from up there, especially when you have to go right up close because the boss is hard of hearing. — Franz Kafka

But I really like hosting, I think it's a strength of mine. It allows me to improvise, and I love the spontaneity of that, and I think I'm funny behind the desk when interviewing someone. — Garry Shandling

One of the class leaders was working on the front desk in a Disney resort at the time of the incident. The housekeeper had encountered something very rare. She knocked on the door and, having gotten no response from any guests inside the room, opened it to reveal a cow standing between the beds and the TV. If you think that's funny, then it gets better: this room was on the second floor, and whoever put the cow there had to get it onto Disney property and past all the cast members working at the resort, before taking it to the second floor. The moral of the story: EXPECT EVERYTHING. — Ema Hutton

Brooke stared in surprise. "You brought me lunch?"
"I was in the neighborhood."
She checked out the label on the bag. "DMK is twenty minutes from here."
"I was in that neighborhood, and now I'm here," he said in exasperation. "Seriously, woman, you are impossible to feed." He strode over and set the bag on her desk. "One cheeseburger with spicy chipotle ketchup and a side of sweet potato fries - chosen specifically for a certain spicy and sweet girl I know - and a green dill pickle for your eyes. So there." He crossed his arms over his chest.
Brooke studied him. "You seem very ornery right now."
"As a matter of fact, I am."
"Why?"
"I don't know," he huffed. "Just ... eat your Brooke Burger. Stop asking so many questions. Sometimes a guy just wants to buy a girl lunch. Any objections to that? Good. Enjoy your Sunday, Ms. Parker."
He strode out of her office, gone as quickly as he'd appeared.
Brooke stared at the doorway and blinked. — Julie James

Kylie stormed into Holiday's office. She dropped down into the seat across from the desk and looked her friend and camp leader right in the eyes. "I hate boys. I'm seriously considering going lesbian."
Holiday's expression was part grin, part groan. "If it was that easy, ninety percent of the women in the world would be gay." She made a funny little face and then asked, "So ... boy problems? — C.C. Hunter

It's a funny thing: people often ask how I discipline myself to write. I can't begin to understand the question. For me, the discipline is turning off the computer and leaving my desk to do something else. — Barbara Kingsolver

Max's scarred brow crinkled. He reached for the coffee mug on his desk. "Motive is tricky. See, what might be a good reason for me to kill someone might not be a good enough reason for you to kill someone."
Swift stared at his hands loosely clasped around his ankle. "I wouldn't. Deliberately hurt anyone."
"And my impulse is to hurt anyone who hurts you." When Swift's gaze lifted to his, Max said, "See how that works?"
He did, and while it wasn't intended as a compliment, it did warm his heart in a funny way. He managed to joke, "Why, I think that's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me. — Josh Lanyon

Brooding is more something I do when I'm working. I know so much more about sitting around worrying about a work project than I do about worrying about kids. This could just be a fact of life for older moms. We've worked and worked and worked and if we are lucky enough to finally have a child or two, we find ourselves suddenly catapulted into a most alien kind of chaos.
Work is so much easier. Anyone will tell you that. To have a desk, where you have everything all lined up, and a schedule you more or less get to agree to. Work. I am a worker. This is so funny because I never really think of my work as work. I certainly never though of myself as having a career. Writing, work, this is just who I am. I am a person who sits at a desk and makes phone calls and taps at a computer keyboard and sips coffee and calls her mom at five. That I am anything better or smaller than that has come as sudden news to me.
Brand new.
News. — Jeanne Marie Laskas

On George W Bush: That man sits at that desk in the White House with the button that can end the world. My father's younger than him and we don't give him the controls for the television. — Billy Connolly

All the world's a stage. Creative work is a kind of theater. The stage is your studio, your desk, or your workstation. The costume is your outfit - your painting pants, your business suit, or that funny hat that helps you think. The props are your materials, your tools, and your medium. The script is just plain old time. An hour here, or an hour there - just time measured out for things to happen. — Austin Kleon

Oh- and grab the plastic bag over by my suitcase."
I slug down the last of the coffee and get up. The bag contains panty hose. I put them on her desk.
"They're for you."
"You want me to look homeless, desperate, but also kind of fabulous? — Holly Black

All right," she said. She got to her feet and crossed to his desk, where her knife still sat atop the maps. She thought of the way he'd plucked it out of her grip. "But I want a favor in return."
"Funny, I thought the favor was allowing you to remain on my ship, despite the fact you're a liar, a thief, and a murderer. But please, do go on. — V.E Schwab

I met the girl who works at the Doubletree front desk, she gave me her number. It's ZERO. I tried to call from here, some other woman answered. "You sound older!" — Mitch Hedberg

I'm so excited. Jay Leno is on the show tonight. He brought some really funny jokes and some great stories. Although I'm a little concerned he also brought his old desk and Kevin Eubanks. I just want Jay to be comfortable, but not too comfortable. — Jimmy Fallon

I don't need somebody behind a desk to tell me what a marketing survey says is funny. I got 3 million miles and 70,000 tickets sold, telling me that I know how to make people laugh. — D. L. Hughley

When you go to work, if your name is on the building, you're rich. If your name is on your desk, you're middle class. And if your name is on your shirt, you're poor. — Rich Hall

This may sound funny, but as much as the 'Today' show matured me, it also was something of a cocoon. I'd been happy there. I never went into the boss's office and pounded my fist on the desk, saying, 'Give me more money! Give me a prime-time show!' — Jane Pauley

She stopped at the desk and held up a can for his view. "This looks like an ordinary hairspray can, right?"
"Of course." he said though he had no idea what hairspray was. — Gena Showalter

U.S. Presedent Barack Sadam Husene Obame sit in the darkened Oval Ofice at 2 a.m. wearing hes traditienel Kenyan roabe.
He take one last bite of the Chicago style deep dish pizza that he has flown to him every day on the Amerecan tax payer's dime and wipe the grease off his mouth with the U.S. consititutien.
He get up and walk to desk, where he keeps the Kenyan black magic crystle ball. Its black glow iluminate his face.
"Eeny, meeny, miney, mo - which basic U.S. freedoms are next to go?" he say aloud to no one and every one at the same time.
Then he flash that trade mark Bary Obame million doller grin as a crack of lightning sound in the distence. — Seinfeld 2000

The lawyer was a short, ugly, little man. He stood about three feet taller than his desk's two foot eight inch frame and he had dark eyes. Lois couldn't tell if they were black or an extremely dark brown. His hair was dirty blonde and very messy. He looked as if he had just crawled out of bed. His white button up shirt was tucked in on only one side and the other side hung out freely. He wore a pair of tan khakis and a pair of black loafers. His skin almost matched the khakis which was extremely creepy and Lois kept thinking the man wasn't wearing pants. — Rebecca McNutt

(Hunter) "conner was at his desk, tapping away at another computer. It was amazing how much he and Quinn looked alike. Quinn nudged me as if he knew what I was thinking.
"I'm cuter,"he informed me loftily. — Alyxandra Harvey

Getting money from my dad is a finesse job. Luckily, I have finesse coming out of my arse. I barged into his study without knocking, marched across to his desk, and held out my hand. "Give me twenty pounds," I snapped. "I need twenty pounds. Give it to me. Now! — Sarra Manning

In the office, Michael sat behind our father's desk, clicking away at the computer with his right hand, and making notes with his left. Ambidextrous freak. — Rachel Vincent

It's funny to me that power comes from sitting behind a desk. It should come from spending yourself. — Kirsty Eagar

Excellent. Aristotle will introduce you to the employees at the desk,' Dr. Creamintin beamed.
'What what? I shall do no such thing!" the fluffy little owl argued.
'Cease your complaining Aristotle. Until Dave and Frey return, you haven't any work to do. Now go introduce the poor girl,' Dr. Creamintin ordered.
'Nevah, I say, nevah!' the owl decided, shaking his little butt.
'Too bad, I say, too bad,' Dr. Creamintin mocked before snatching the little bird off his stand on Felisha's desk and throwing him out of the office. — K.M. Shea