Death Humor Quotes Novels & Stories

Yes, he needed time to recover, but at least he was still alive. Wendy and I went to the morgue to see Diane. The sight of her mother's body broke Wendy down. She cried her heart out, and she muttered, "My mother's gone." She raised her head and stared at me with tear-filled eyes. Sobbing, she said, "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, Felix. I had no idea this would happen…"

I snort. What a cliché quote some or other happy drunk motivational speaker concocted when he was at a loss for words. It must be the same asshole who suggested grabbing life by the horns, that winners never quit, and that everything happens for a reason. “Well, keep on dreaming, girl.” Cause that dream is not gonna happen. Luckily, that’s Axel’s shit. Not mine. I fake a smile, “Cheers!” and throw the alcohol down my throat before I bite into a piece of lemon. The sour taste causes goosebumps on my skin.

, Sacha added, and we all laughed. "Let's go munch on fries and enough calories to take us to heaven", I said, lightheartedly, trying to clear the gloom, earning glares for my bland joke "Ain't nobody want to die", Kane quipped, as we made our way down to the locker room. "Whatever", I jibed.

Brooke quipped in sardonically, “We don’t want to get ourselves killed, do we?” She was obviously joking, and I laughed, but Neil had gone quiet and rigid in his seat, staring straight in front of him with a light frown, eyes filled with a disturbed light. When he spoke, his voice had lost all trace of humor. “Don’t joke about dying and getting killed, Brooke. A lot of people have nearly died and gotten killed around me, and I really don’t find it funny.” My eyes widened, and I glanced at Brooke. “Babe, I’m sure she didn’t mean it like that.”

I let out a sarcastic smile, “have fun inhaling carbon dioxide there.” With that, they burst out laughing. “We really need to think ways to put some humor inside your brain!” Ave exclaimed, still laughing. I pursed my lips. “I don’t need that.” “As expected from you,” Rebel chuckled. I roll my eyes heavenwards. I don’t need some humor. A bitter smile placed against my lips. I only need someone who’ll save me from this hell. “How about this?” “Your showing too much skin.” “This one?” “Too short.”

“Dying should come with a disclaimer. deaths only solve part of the problem or the cause of the problem; the things they stir still remain.” My bitter laugh echoes in the space before tears flood my eyes. I can no longer disguise my hostility with laughter and crude jokes. With a quick sniffle, I continue before I lose my nerve. “So, couple of questions…you know, since you have time on your hands now and, let us face it, the rigour mortis has set in, so…can’t really hit me as good as you used to, can you?” A chuckle leaves me. Goddamn, why is my audience a bunch of dead people?

Athena POV “I used to think my life was a tragedy, but now I realize, it’s a comedy”. That famous quote from the Joker runs through my head over and over, as my clothes are absolutely drenched in slimy red and yellow gunk. Only, in my case, it’s still a tragedy. I fail to see the comedy part in all of this.

“Eh, not really. No.” He sighed. “A mortician walks into a bar-” “Formaldehyde is the punchline, isn't it?” “Stop ruining my jokes, you wretch.” I vaguely noticed his temper. “Tea,” he said darkly. “I need tea.” “Heh heh. Tea. T.” “Silence, Shannon.”

“You talk a lot, Anton. You sure you don’t just like hearing your own voice?” His jaw tensed, but he didn’t react beyond that. “I’m just giving you the courtesy of knowing why you’re about to die.” “Oh yeah?” I shifted my weight slightly, not enough to be obvious, just enough to test his focus. “And here I thought you just liked monologues.” His lips curled in irritation. “You really think cracking jokes is gonna change anything?” “Maybe not,” I shrugged, rolling my shoulders like I wasn’t staring down death itself. “But it’s entertaining me.”

“Are you allowed to make dead jokes about your parents?” “I know it’s rude,” he replied, grinning with zero shame. “It’s not supposed to be funny. But I get one morbid joke, don’t I? Don’t we all? Some day you’ll be making jokes about your family too.” I doubled over in laughter, the kind that shook my shoulders and made my ribs ache. Not because it was that funny, but because I needed it. Because it pulled me out of the heavy place in my mind where grief lived. Because he looked so happy saying such a thing when there was nothing to laugh about.