Wanker Quotes

Roberts knocked, heard: 'Enter.' Thought: 'Wanker. ~ Ken Bruen

I'm not a big fan of the gym, I do lots of outdoor aerobics - yoga, swimming, running - but I kinda hate talking about it. We have a term in Australia, it makes you sound like a wanker. ~ Ryan Kwanten

It's always precisely the sort of smug old wanker you would never ever want to end up like. We don't live the way you tell us to because we're afraid that if we do we'll grow up to be like you, and the thought of that is unbearable. It's alright for you because you'll be dead soon anyway, but we've still got another fifty or sixty years to live in this stinking country. ~ Ryu Murakami

She had been dumped a couple of years before by a sort of male equivalent to Charlie, a guy called Michael who wanted to be something at the BBC. (He never made it, the wanker, and each day we never saw him on TV or heard him on the radio, something inside us rejoiced.) ~ Nick Hornby

You're not going to turn into a wanker, are you?" says Tone, opening a can of larger.
"What do you mean?"
"He means you're not going to get all studenty on us," says Spencer.
"Well, I am a student. I mean, I will be, so, ... "
"No, but I mean you're not gong to get all twatty and up-your-own-arse and come home at Christmas in a gown, talking Latin and saying "one does" and "one thinks" and all that ... "
"Yeah, Tone, that's EXACTLY what I'm going to do. ~ David Nicholls

Still, even after the black winger John Barnes scored his solo goal to beat Brazil in Rio in 1984, the Football Association's chairman was harangued by England fans on the flight back home: "You fucking wanker, you prefer sambos to us. ~ Simon Kuper

I wasn't being a git. I wasn't even being a twat, or a wanker, or any of your other bleeding Briticisms - ~ Stephanie Perkins

Soon, I told myself, I would understand what the heavily articulated greeting "get off the fucking road you fucking wanker" actually meant. ~ Matt Haig

There was a time I would have totally agreed with this," she said softly. "You can be a real wanker sometimes. ~ Sibylla Matilde

When you by nature subscribe to the view that everyone except yourself is a berk or a wanker, it is hard to bond with anybody in any rational common cause. ~ Lynne Truss

There are times when you come across somebody that's really impressive, someone that's got a proper living and really does make a difference to people's lives. Then I do feel a bit of a wanker, admitting I'm an actress. That's hard to say to someone who may be making a difference. But I don't know how I could change things. ~ Michelle Gomez

Respect but do not fear your own fear. Do not let it come between you and something that might be deeply enjoyable. Remember it is quite normal to be a bit frightened of being alone. Most of us grew up in a social environment that sent out the explicit message that solitude was bad for you: it was bad for your health (especially your mental health) and bad for your 'character' too. Too much of it and you would promptly become weird, psychotic, self-obsessed, very possibly a sexual predator and rather literally a wanker. Mental (and even physical) well-being, along with virtue, depends, in this model, on being a good mixer, a team-player, and having high self-esteem, plus regular, uninhibited, simultaneous orgasms with one partner (at a time).
Actually, of course, it is never this straightforward because at the same time as pursuing this 'extrovert ideal', society gives out an opposite - though more subterranean - message. Most people would still rather be described as sensitive, spiritual, reflective, having rich inner lives and being good listeners, than the more extroverted opposites. I think we still admire the life of the intellectual over that of the salesman; of the composer over the performer (which is why pop stars constantly stress that they write their own songs); of the craftsman over the politician; of the solo adventurer over the package tourist. People continue to believe, in the fact of so much evidence - films, for example - that Great Art can only be pr ~ Sara Maitland

Max flashed me a flirtatious smile. "Why don't you come and join us, me and you could -"
"Don't even finish that sentence, Slap-head."
"Hey, I told you, call me Max."
"While you're being a wanker, you're Slap-head. ~ Suzanne Wrightt

Every Forsaken in a mile radius can probably hear you. You're just asking for trouble if you two don't stop whipping out the measuring stick."
"It's his fault," Avery snaps, pointing at Julian.
"Shut up, ya wanker."
They start in on each other again. They yell as if they both have megaphones to their mouths, standing inches apart. Each vulgar insult is more illogical than the last. ~ Laura Kreitzer

How did it feel, Fliss? Knowing I was watching that little tosser taste you? Knowing I was watching when you wrapped your lips around the that Sam bloke's cock? ~ Sibylla Matilde

That sigh didna sound good," Rhys said into the silence of the room.
Lily hadn't even realized she had sighed. She listened to the beat of his heart beneath her ear. "Just thinking."
"Anything I can help with?"
How she wished he could.
Lily opened her eyes to look at his handsome face, a shadow of a beard darkening his jaw. "Unfortunately, no."
"You're no' thinking of that wanker of an ex while in bed with me, are you?" he asked as he cracked open an eye and smiled at her.
She chuckled. "I would never."
"Good, because that could severely damage my confidence. ~ Donna Grant

I can't believe I told you all those things and we've ended up talking about how great I am.'
'But we're not. You've confused the two thnigs again. You're not great. You're a shallow, feckless, self-indulgent... wanker.'
'Thanks. ~ Nick Hornby

So, did you spend the night with the blond rich wanker or the dark haired posh twat? ~ Georgiana Derwent

Is that...the Looney Tunes theme?"
Mer and St. Clair cock their ears.
"Why,yes.I believe it is," St. Clair says.
"I heard 'Love Shack' a few minutes ago," Mer says.
"It's official," I say. "America has finally ruined France."
"So can we go now?" St. Clair holds up a small bag. "I'm done."
"Ooo,what'd you get?" Mer asks. She takes his bag and pulls out a delicate, shimmery scarf. "Is it for Ellie?"
"Shite."
Mer pauses. "You didn't get anything for Ellie?"
"No,it's for Mum.Arrrgh." He rakes a hand through his hair. "Would you mind if we pop over to Sennelier before we go home?" Sennelier is a gorgeous little art supply sore,the kind that makes me wish I had an excuse to buy oil paints and pastels. Mer and I went with Rashmi last weekend. She bought Josh a new sketchbook for Hanukkah.
"Wow.Congratulations,St. Clair," I say. "Winner of today's Sucky Boyfriend award.And I thought Steve was bad-did you see what happened in calc?"
"You mean when Amanda caught him dirty-texting Nicole?" Mer asks. "I thought she was gonna stab him in the neck with her pencil."
"I've been busy," St. Clair says.
I glance at him. "I was just teasing."
"Well,you don't have to be such a bloody git about it."
"I wasn't being a git. I wasnt even being a twat, or a wanker, or any of your other bleeding Briticisms-"
"Piss off." He snatches his bag back from Mer and scowls at me.
"HEY!" Mer says. "It's Christmas. Ho-ho-ho. Deck ~ Stephanie Perkins

See, that's what I want more of. A little spunk!'

'Fuck off!' I yell, shocking myself with my vulgar language.

'Ooh, yes, carry on, you filthy-mouthed bitch!'

I gasp and swing around, finding him grinning from ear to ear. 'Wanker.'

'Cow.'

'Tosser.'

He grins some more. 'Dog.'

'Shirt-lifter,' I retort.

'Tart.'

I recoil, horrified. 'I am not a tart! ~ Jodi Ellen Malpas

I do consider myself to be something of a pretentious wanker. ~ Nicky Wire

Be proud to be a decent American rather than a wanker whipping up fear. ~ Michael D. Higgins

Marriage is about compromising,' he told me. 'Families are about compromising, being anything other than a hermit is about compromising. Parliamentary democracy certainly is.' He snorted. 'Nothing but.' He drained his glass. 'You either learn to compromise or you resign yourself to shouting from the sidelines for the rest of your life.' He looked thoughtful. 'Or you arrange to become a dictator. There's always that, I suppose.' He shrugged. 'Not a great set of choices, really, but that's the price we pay for living together. And it's that or solitude. Then you really do become a wanker. Another drink? ~ Iain Banks

Why should you and I struggle to pay our bills while some pisshead dopehead wanker spends OUR money on getting wrecked? ~ Karl Wiggins

While she watched them, she reviewed their conversation. "When he said 'Kyr,' did he mean Kyr Zemen, the prime commander of the League?" Maris drained his glass in a way that was more akin to his military training than to the fastidious man she knew him to be. "One and the same. Unfortunately. Bloody damn wanker bastard." The venom behind those words had to spring from a personal grudge between them. She'd never seen so much hatred from Maris before toward anyone. Not even her. "How do you know him?" she asked. "He's my oldest brother." That ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

While Olivia takes care of business, I approach my brother, leaning against the wall beside him, arms crossed.

"Congratulations," he says, sulking. "Bastard."

"Thank you."

"Olive looks gorgeous. Prick."

"She does. I'll tell her you said so."

"I'm really happy for you. Wanker."

I laugh. "It's going to be all right, Henry."

He drinks from his flask, flinching as he swallows. "Easy for you to say. Prat."

I squeeze his shoulder. "Are you ever going to forgive me?"

He shrugs. "Probably. Eventually. Of course I will. When I'm sober."

"Any idea when that may be?"

"Henry, there you are!" our grandmother clucks from across the room. "We must speak about the memo I sent you…"

Henry lifts his flask and shakes his head. "Not today. ~ Emma Chase

The bloody cockfucking wanker therapist wants me to write my bloody thoughts about all the tragedy in my bloody life. It'll be therapeutic, he says. It'll be closure, he cheers. I'd bloody well like to push him over the ledge of his window, I think back. Hang my head over the sill and tinkle my bloody fingers in a wave. Watch him flail his arms about trying to bloody fly as he plummets, then splashes across the sidewalk. ~ Christine Zolendz