You May Also Like / View all maxioms
Stay a little and news will find you.
Stay a little and news will find you.
O, my sweet sir, news fitting to the night,
Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible.
O, my sweet sir, news fitting to the night,
Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible.
Who, or why, or which, or what,
Is the Akhond of Swat?
Who, or why, or which, or what,
Is the Akhond of Swat?
But we are at war, and we here at THE DAILY SHOW will do our best to keep you informed read more
But we are at war, and we here at THE DAILY SHOW will do our best to keep you informed of any late-breaking...humor we can find. Of course, our show is obviously at a disadvantage compared to the many news sources that we're competing with… at a disadvantage in several respects. For one thing, we are fake. They are not. So in terms of credibility we are, well, oddly enough, actually about even. We're about even.
I think of myself as a comedian who has the pleasure of writing jokes about things that I actually care read more
I think of myself as a comedian who has the pleasure of writing jokes about things that I actually care about. And that's really it. You know, if I really wanted to enact social change… I have great respect for people who are in the front lines and the trenches of trying to enact social change. I am far lazier than that.
The only white man you can trust is a dead white man.
The only white man you can trust is a dead white man.
Prithee, friend,
Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear,
The good and the bad together: read more
Prithee, friend,
Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear,
The good and the bad together: he's friends with Caesar,
In state of health, thou say'st, and thou say'st, free.
How goes it now, sir? This news which is called true is so like
an old tale that the read more
How goes it now, sir? This news which is called true is so like
an old tale that the verity of it is in strong suspicion.
My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,
Which holds but till thy news be uttered,
read more
My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,
Which holds but till thy news be uttered,
And then all this thou seest is but a clod
And module of confounded royalty.