Dear Diary: My teen angst bullshit now has a body count.
Life is a rollercoaster ride and I don't intend on being the one screaming and hanging on for dear life.
Dear God, I am only what you made me and I appreciate everything that you gave me, but like, I don't want to do it any more, sort of lost sight of what I'm doing it for.
Don't be defeatist, dear, it's very middle class.
Oh, I'm going to miss everything. It's been the most amazing and significant job of my life obviously and I'll always have it near and dear to my heart. I'm so grateful and appreciative that I worked with the best crew and the best writers and producers and cast and I love them all.
I used to have to do readings in church, and it was terrifying. I would never have my glasses. The words are printed so small even Superman would be nervous. And you’re reading from the Bible. It’s not like you can just make something up and improvise. “A reading from the letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians. Uhhh. Dear Corinthians, … How was your weekend? Sure is hot here. Uh, tell Jesus ‘Hey.’ This is the word of the Lord.
I had some really dear friends who died from AIDS-one in particular. His family wasn't around and he didn't have many friends. I spent a lot of time with him in his later days.
I’m mourning with the rest of the world for the talented, gorgeous, funny, intelligent John Forsythe but my heart is broken for the loss of my dear, dear friend and neighbor. I will miss him terribly.
Dear God, I surrender this thought to you, for I would see the miracle that lies behind it. Amen.
I lost a very dear friend who lived with AIDS for about 17 years. Rejecting early treatments that were iffy, he thought he saved himself. I really miss him a lot.
Victory was to be bought so dear as to be almost indistinguishable from defeat.
From dear, dear Gloria Swanson, I learned how to live long, happy and free of health problems. I owe her my life.
A reader can only embrace the open-armed Dear Everybody .... In Benders unsent letters of apology or thanks, Michael Kimball transforms the familiar into the strange again and the simplest confessions are made moments of sublime wonder. Hold on to this book.
Dear Marco, how do i unwrite the past, how do i undo the mistakes, how do i unlove you?
Experience keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in no other, and scarce in that; for it is true we may give advice, but we cannot give conduct.
So mayst thou live, dear! many years, In all the bliss that life endears
Human life is so full of pain, that once past the youthful delusion that a sad countenance is interesting, and an incurable woe the most delightful thing possible, the mind instinctively turns where it can get rest, and cheer and sunshine. And the friend who can bring to it the largest portion of these is, of a natural necessity, the most useful, the most welcome, and the most dear.
My disenchantment? Oh no, my dear, there are no disenchantments, merely progressions and styles of possession. To exist is to be spellbound.
England has never enjoyed a genuine social revolution. Maybe that's what's wrong with that dear, tepid, vapid, insipid, stuffy, little country.
Dear God, teach me to be careless.
Amongst other strange things said of me, I hear it is said by the deists that I am one of the number; and indeed, that some good people think I am no Christian. This thought gives me much more pain than the appellation of Tory; because I think religion of infinitely higher importance than politics; and I find much cause to reproach myself that I have lived so long, and have given no decided and public proofs of my being a Christian. But, indeed, my dear child, this is a character which I prize far above all this world has, or can boast.
A heretic, my dear sir, is a fellow who disagrees with you regarding something neither of you knows anything about.
A sweet thing, for whatever time, to revisit in dreams the dear dad we have lost.
No author, without a trial, can conceive of the difficulty of writing a romance about a country where there is no shadow, no antiquity, no mystery, no picturesque and gloomy wrong, nor anything but a commonplace prosperity, in broad and simple daylight, as is happily the case with my dear native land.
And yet self-knowledge is thought by some not so easy. Who knows, my dear sir, but for a time you may have taken yourself for somebody else? Stranger things have happened.
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