I don't dare touch her. Loss is a knowledge I'm sorry to have. Perhaps the only thing worse than experiencing it, is watching it replay anew in someone else--all the awful stages picking up like a chorus that has to be sung.
Girls blush, sometimes, because they are alive, half wishing they were dead to save the shame. The sudden blush devours them, neck and brow; They have drawn too near the fire of life, like gnats, and flare up bodily, wings and all. What then? Who's sorry for a gnat or girl?
I say sorry to my wife about five times a day for various reasons.
The perfect family doesn't exist, nor is there a perfect husband or a perfect wife, and let's not talk about the perfect mother-in-law! It's just us sinners. " A healthy family life requires frequent use of three phrases: "May I? Thank you, and I'm sorry" and "never, never, never end the day without making peace.
There was a nobility in poverty when I was growing up. My mom was poor but she was planting roses and she was cleaning the steps, you know what I mean. You didn't feel sorry for yourself.
I'm sorry to burden you,' she said. She felt like a crybaby. 'What can we do with our stories,' he said, 'but tell them?
I'm sorry for losing my temper following the race, but after a day or two of looking back at the race it's easy to realize that it's just not that big of a deal compared with what the people of the Gulf Coast are still going through.
I don't have time to feel sorry for myself. I've got to think.
Products are a must - full stop. I'm sorry to say it, but that bob won't look so sleek on its own - you need a little help. It doesn't have to be the high-end stuff that they sell in the salon. Products you find in the supermarket are just as good, and sometimes better.
We can leave a place behind, or we can stay in that place and leave our selfishness (often expressed in feeling sorry for ourselves) behind. If we leave a place and take our selfishness with us, the cycle of problems starts all over again no matter where we go. But if we leave our selfishness behind, no matter where we are, things start to improve.
She tries to turn too soon, and the ladder smacks into Fernando's shoulder. "Oh! Sorry, Nando. " The jolt knocks his glasses askew. He smiles at Christina and takes the glasses off, shoving them into his pocket. "Nando?" I say to him. "I thought the Erudite didn't like nicknames?" "When a pretty girl calls you by a nickname," he says, "it is only logical to respond to it.
If I could prove by logic that you would die in five minutes, I should be sorry you were going to die, but my sorrow would be very much mitigated by pleasure in the proof.
I learned to drive when I was 35. I'm driving like an old lady and very close to the wheel. I don't take many risks, and when people yell at me I say 'sorry, sorry, sorry!' I don't have road rage yet.
Mia Maz glanced aside in concern at his muffled snort. "Are you all right?" "Yes. Sorry," he whispered. "I'm just having an attack of limericks. " Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip; only her deepening dimple betrayed her. "Shhh," she said, with feeling.
Sorry to hear about your Dad. " He shrugged. "He was seventy, and we always told him fast food would kill him. " "Heart attack?" "He was hit by a Pizza Express truck.
[Kanye West] took me to a fashion meeting in Paris once. I'd never met these people; I was so nervous. It was the beginning of our relationship, and I didn't know anyone in fashion. And he passed out at the table. I'm like, "I'm so sorry, we're jet-lagged. " You don't know the number of times I've had to say that. I always flat-out lie that he's jet-lagged, even if we've been home for months.
Sorry doesn’t mean anything! Not when you’re still with him. It’s not just that you cheated—it’s that he’s still here, and you’re still with him. It just goes on and on, and it hurts every single time I see you with him. I hate it that he makes you smile, and that there’s nothing I can do to stop this. I can’t think straight, and everything hurts, and nothing makes sense anymore. You’re shredding my heart with one hand and stroking his ego with the other. And it’s killing me, Faythe. You’re killing me. And it’s only going to get worse, now that everyone knows.
Alice: I simply must get through! Doorknob: Sorry, you're much too big. Simply impassible. Alice: You mean impossible? Doorknob: No, impassible. Nothing's impossible.
No one should ever feel sorry for me. Ive been treated very well for the most part.
Inez? I'm sorry I bit you," he said with sincere regret, and then inspiration made him add, "Bastien made me do it.