Witty Writing Novels & Stories

- You are useless, luck only serves to addict and commit sins. - In my opinion, a pencil is one level above a pen, it is beautiful. - Hmm! Fragile, brittle, and everything he does can be erased. Don't compare us! - Nowadays only fools prefer the immutable, if I may. - Good! If you talk like that I can mention that you never got off the shelf much. It is only here because the master likes a distraction while he writes. Jester!

‌ Grinning, Vasky replied, "I prefer to focus on things that actually matter, unlike you, the self-proclaimed Queen of Nonsense." ‌ Playfully offended, Carlin responded, "Excuse me! Nonsense is an art form, Vasky. Not everyone can appreciate its beauty." ‌ Rolling his eyes, Vasky couldn't help but smile, "Right, an art form that only you seem to have mastered." ‌ Their rapid-fire banter continued, drawing chuckles and laughter from the onlookers. It was a duel of wit and sarcasm, a language only they understood, creating an amusing and entertaining spectacle for everyone present.

I could have walked out. I could have avoided twisting the proverbial knife, but I told her the truth when I said I was bad. I had one of the best teachers and too many years to perfect the craft. The words and cold tone came with ease. "Coffee?" I asked, nodding toward the cup on the table beside her. "Yes. You’re incredibly perceptive. Was it the cup or the aroma that gave it away?" "Very funny." "I'm not laughing."

Sarcasm evident in my words *Just hurry up* *Fine* I replied and as I was about to keep my phone back into its rightful place I bumped into someone and my hot cocoa slipped from my hand unto the floor "We have to stop meeting like this cupcake" Only one human being in the world called me that. "Sorry about your hot cocoa though. At least it didn't spill all over your shirt" he said with an amused look on his charming face. Maybe if I ignore him he'll go away

How awesome was that? Sarcasm, my best friend. One week into my second year of witch's college and here I was wishing something really awful would happen just so I'd have an excuse to get out of this boring class. Tippy winked and fluttered her fingers over the mess she'd made. A little clay man rose from the mix, dancing a jig on the glass while giving Mr. Howermall the finger. Oh my, yes. Much, much better. I pressed both hands over my mouth to stifle my giggling and made a fake angry face at Tippy who let the tiny mud man collapse.

They are one and the same* Red answered with a crafty chuckle. It was good to be stuck with a herald who was intelligent and had good wit. Intelligence was necessary, for the intelligent were so called because they had learned and read so much. It was vital to be witty as well, for the witty were able to use their minds to figure out things that the natural mind could not easily conjure.

“Indeed. You’re the most talented rock skipper here.” He chuckles and nudges me. “You know, sarcasm is considered the lowest form of wit.” “Point out someone who believes that, and I’ll show you someone who proves that common sense isn’t as common as they think. Anyone who says that phrase is someone it takes minutes or even days to realize they have been insulted through what they consider wit that’s beneath them. They are the true geniuses among us.” “Hmm…you may have a point,” he says. After a few minutes, he glares at me. “Rude.”

I also knew those facts but I was oblivious to them here. I continued clapping but Cayden ruined everything with his stupid mouth. “Someone has to be the brains between us.” He said. I halted my hands mid-air and glared at him. I seem to be frowning too much recently. “Are you saying I’m dumb and witless?” “I’m saying that I’m smart and witty. But I can’t argue with you if you think those traits define you.” He said. I wasn’t looking at him so I couldn’t see what was playing on his face but I knew it wasn’t far from a fucking smirk.

I bragged, my tone sly and my words slow and deliberate. Mrs. Shawty's eyes glimmered with amusement and delight. "I didn't even behave," I said in a whisper, lacing my words with mockery, mine were the slowest words anyone could utter. Mrs. Shawty laughed like a bell, a warm, rich sound sweeping through the air like a net and flooding the room with golden rays. "'Haha' sounded so sweet as she laughed." Gaze at the laughing woman, and this sweet sound is a balm to my frenzied spirit.

People were talking, speculating and making up narratives. Exactly what I wanted. And the way the post was written, I had to admit, was clever. The caption drew attention without saying too much. Just enough to make people curious. Just enough to make them watch. “He really knows how to play the game,” I said quietly. For a moment, I simply watched the numbers rise. Then something clicked in my mind. A better idea. My fingers paused mid-scroll. I leaned back slowly, the grin on my face sharpening. “Why stop here?”