Perhaps the time has come to formulate a moral code which would govern our relations with the great creatures of the sea as well as with those on dry land. That this will come to pass is my dear wish.
Dear friend, Your heart is a polished mirror. You must wipe it dean of the veil of dust that has gathered upon it, because it is destined to reflect the light of divine secrets.
So dear I love him, that with him, all deaths I could endure, without him, live no life.
It holds for good polity ever, to have that outwardly in vilest estimation, which inwardly is most dear to us.
Life pulls softly inside your bindings. The pod glows - dear stench.
The idea that the GLC should be abolished at a stroke is ill though out, undemocratic and will cost the people of London dear.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Obama, Thank you for sending me Christmas and New Year greetings yet again. Welcome back to India. . . Would have loved to host you at my concert in Baroda on the 26th!
If unconditional love, loyalty, and obedience are the tickets to an eternal life, then my black Labrador, Venus, will surely be there long before me, along with all the dear animals in nature who care for their young at great cost to themselves and have suffered so much at the hands of humans.
Dear child, some stories have no morals. Sometimes darkness and madness are simply that.
When I was in elementary school, I used to write letters to myself. I'd write letters and go 'Dear Kristen-at-16-years-old, happy birthday. I hope you're doing something. '
Oh dear! A drunken infidel weaver! said Mr. Hale to himself.
Pardon me, dear human self, capable of the most heinous degradation, capable of soaring.
But, my dear sirs, when peace does come, you may call on me for any thing. Then will I share with you the last cracker, and watch with you to shield your homes and families against danger from every quarter.
Oh, my dear Miss Everdeen. I thought we had an agreement not to lie to each other.
Nor do we merely feel these essences for one short hour no, even as these trees that whisper round a temple become soon dear as the temples self, so does the moon, the passion posey, glories infinite, Haunt us till they become a cheering light unto our souls and bound to us so fast, that wheather there be shine, or gloom o'er cast, They always must be with us, or we die.
Dear gentlemen, let me die a natural death.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall with our English dead.
Miss Prism:. . . And you do not seem to reealize, dear Doctor, that by persistently remaining single, a man coverts himself into a permanent public temptation. . . . Chausuble: But is a man not equally attractive when married? Miss Prism: No married man is ever attractive except to his wife. Chausuble: And often, I´ve been told, not even to her.
God. . . God. . . dear Father in heaven, I'm not a praying man, but if you're up there and you can hear me, show me the way. I'm at the end of my rope. Show me the way, God. . .
Posterity has never made the grave's embrace less cruel. It simply assuages our fear of death, because there is no better cure for out inevitable morality then the illusion of a beautiful eternity. But there is one illusion I still hold dear: that is the thought of an enlightened nation. That is the only future I still dream of.