My Dear Sister Quotes & Sayings

I am involved with so many charitable organizations. Lung Cancer because of my dad, Breast Cancer because as a woman and mother of two daughters I have to be, Lupus for my sister, Crohn's disease for a dear friend, as well as Oceana and The Plastic Pollution Coalition because we have to be responsible to save the planet! — Lois Robbins

And Lymond's bright, sardonic face, looking into hers, lost all its amusement; all its icy amiability; all its social charm. 'My dear sister in Christ, and mother in expectation, I may be what Buccleuch has called me: a harlot. But a discriminating harlot, my dear.' And, flashing out an arm, he snatched, lightly from below her labouring grasp, a fine glass vase of Sybilla's at her side. 'You don't sign your work twice,' he said softly. 'It's unlucky. — Dorothy Dunnett

Heart lesson #3: post-heartbreak survival.
The heart is resilient, I mean literally. When a body is burned, the heart is the last organ to oxidize. While the rest of the body can catch flame like a polyester sheet on campfire, it takes hours to burn the heart to ash. My dear sister, a near-perfect organ! Solid, inflammable. — Ibi Kaslik

Unhand her," said a voice behind her. A voice she had never before thought she would be glad to hear. A voice that was commanding, strong and deep.
Her eyes popped open and she whirled around to find the duke standing right behind her. The man made a grab for her but the duke had already caught her waist and deposited her behind him.
"Let us go and I will not inform the authorities," the duke suggested.
The man sneered, "Lady in mine."
"Dear fellow, I would love to hand you over this young lady with all my sympathies, believe me. But my sister and my mother would have my head. She, you see, belongs to them. — Anya Wylde

Westcliff sees an odd sort of logic in why you would finally be the one to win St. Vincent's heart. He says a girl like you would appeal to ... hmm, how did he put it? ... I can't remember the exact words, but it was something like ... you would appeal to St. Vincent's deepest, most secret fantasy."
Evie felt her cheeks flushing while a skirmish of pain and hope took place in the tired confines of her chest. She tried to respond sardonically. "I should think his fantasy is to consort with as many women as possible."
A grin crossed Lillian's lips. "Dear, that is not St. Vincent's fantasy, it's his reality. And you're probably the first sweet, decent girl he's ever had anything to do with."
"He spent quite a lot of time with you and Daisy in Hampshire," Evie countered.
That seemed to amuse Lillian further. "I'm not at all sweet, dear. And neither is my sister. Don't say you have been laboring under that misconception all this time? — Lisa Kleypas

Dear Victor: Wow. That ... really got out of hand. I'm sending this cat in as a peace offering. I forgive you for all the stuff you wrote on the walls about my sister, and I'm going to just ignore all the stuff you wrote about my "giant ass" (turn cat over for rest) because I love you and you need me. Who else loves you enough to send you notes written on cats? Nobody, that's who. Also, I stapled a picture of us from our wedding day to the cat's left leg. Don't we look happy? We can be that way again. Just stop leaving wet towels on the floor. That's all I ask. I'm low-maintenance that way. Also, this cat needs to go on a diet. I shouldn't be able to write this much on a cat and still have room left over. — Jenny Lawson

Not thou,
White rose, but thy
Ensanguined sister is
The dear companion of my heart's
Shed blood. — Adelaide Crapsey

So you approve of what I did?" I asked hesitantly. "Let's just say I wasn't overly surprised." "And Bryn and Regan?" He sat beside me and looped his arm over my shoulder, pulling me close. "My dear sweet sister, your brothers all love you as much as we ever did, and none of us blame you for wanting more from a marriage, though we've all been worried for your well-being. It's only a matter of time before someone discovers you." I — Mary E. Pearson

Talaith leaned forward, studied her youngest daughter. "You think you're evil?"
"Pure evil," Izzy clarified, which got her a rather vicious glare from Rhi. An expression Dagmar had never thought the young,
perpetually smiling or sobbing girl was capable of.
"Why would you think you're evil?"
"It's a feeling I have."
"No. Someone told her."
Rhi glowered at her sister. "I never said that."
"You didn't have to," Izzy shot back. "I know you."
"Well, who told her that?" Talaith demanded.
And, as one, they all turned and looked at Gwenvael.
He blinked, sat up straight. "I would never say such a thing to my dear sweet niece!"
"You said it to me," Talwyn snapped.
"That's because you're not my dear sweet niece. You're the rude little cow who threw a knife at my head."
"I wasn't aiming for you. I was aiming for Mum."
"She's right," Annwyl admitted. "I just ducked behind you." She shrugged. "Sorry. — G.A. Aiken

My dear sister, you can't escape God, and you can't escape your skeletons in the closet. They will always be there until you take them out from behind those dusty old moth-eaten coats. Your exterior facade of 'everything is alright' only works for a little while, and then the cracks begin to show. You can only hide behind yourself for so long. You can't keep running! — Corallie Buchanan

Violet lay next to me and I scooted over, making room for the two of us on the twin-sized bed. She took my hand in hers, slowly and deliberately threading our fingers together, like she used to do when we were little girls. And just like that, I felt six years old again, with my eight-year-old sister next to me, shaking in fear as we listened to one of Momma's tirades outside our bedroom. My eyes flooded with tears while I gripped her hand, hanging on for dear life. Violet softly hummed the old lullaby she made up years ago, the one she used to sing to me when I was scared or sad. I drifted off to sleep, — Denise Grover Swank

I have just been condemned, not to a shameful death, which can only apply to felons, but rather to finding your brother again ... I seek forgiveness for all whom I know for every harm I may have unwittingly caused them ... Adieu, good, gentle sister ... I embrace you with all my heart as well as the poor, dear children. — Marie Antoinette

My dear sister, I hope, when God Almighty in his righteous providence shall take me out of time into eternity, that it will be by a flash of lightning. — James Otis

My dear parents," said the sister banging her hand on the table by way of an introduction, "things cannot go on any longer in this way. Maybe if you don't understand that, well, I do. I will not utter my brother's name in front of this monster, and thus I say only that we must try to get rid of it. We have tried what is humanly possible to take care of it and to be patient. I believe that no one can criticize us in the slightest. — Franz Kafka

When Catherine told me about this (tragedy nearby), I could only say, shocked, "Dear God, that family needs grace."
She replied firmly, "That family needs casseroles," and then proceeded to organize the entire neighborhood into bringing that family dinner, in shifts, every single night, for an entire year. I do not know if my sister fully recognizes that this _is_ grace. — Elizabeth Gilbert

I am afraid I interrupt your solitary ramble, my dear sister,' said he, as he joined her.
'You certainly do,' she replied with a smile; 'but it does not follow that the interruption must be unwelcome. — Jane Austen

Dear my older brother,
I understand you love me, that you care for your little sister. I remember you beat up a bully once on the bus, and how you kept that frightening image of youself for the sake of my safety. I remember how ever since we were young and I cried, you would go out of your way to make me calm down.When you found out who I liked, you would secretly interrogate their older siblings to figure out what this guy was like.
But you don't need to worry anymore. That was almost a decade ago. You're an adult now. I'm not yours to baby anymore, because soon I'll be an adult too.
Love,
Your little sister — Emily Trunko

My dear young friends, I speak to you as one who stands on the edge of eternity. From that perspective, I see you as the choicest spirits ever placed on the earth. The promises in your generation's patriarchal blessings, if you are faithful, seem to exceed the promises in Sister Faust's blessing and in mine ... I want you to know that I believe in you. I believe you can be in the world but not of the world. — James E. Faust

But I have one want which I have never yet been able to satisfy; and the absence of the object of which I now feel as a most severe evil. I have no friend, Margaret: when I am glowing with the enthusiasm of success, there will be none to participate my joy; if I am assailed by disappointment, no one will endeavour to sustain me in dejection. I shall commit my thoughts to paper, it is true; but that is a poor medium for the communication of feeling. I desire the company of a man who could sympathise with me; whose eyes would reply to mine. You may deem me romantic, my dear sister, but I bitterly feel the want of a friend. I have no one near me, gentle yet courageous, possessed of a cultivated as well as of a capacious mind, whose tastes are like my own, to approve or amend my plans. How would such a friend repair the faults of your poor brother! — Mary Shelley

It is true, we do not like to lose a good, kind companion, a wife, a husband, a child, a brother, a sister, or any of our near and dear friends or relatives; but we have to do it, and it is right and proper that we should. They go a little before us; when we get there they will receive and welcome us and say, "God bless you, you have come at last." That is the way I look at it. I ex pect to strike hands and embrace my friends who have gone before. — John Taylor

There can be no situation in life in which the conversation of my dear sister will not administer some comfort to me. — Mary Wortley Montagu

My dear, simple little sister! Every mood so fleeting, yet so obvious; there was no mystery to Minnie, none at all. She loved whom she knew, distrusted everyone else, and shared her emotions, her thoughts, as freely as they occurred to her. — Melanie Benjamin

My dear sister! I'm amazed to discover that you can compose so delightfully. In a word, your Lied is beautiful. You must compose more often. — Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

I went back into my bedroom and knelt at my bed the way I did when I was a kid. I folded my hands and pressed the top knuckle joints of my thumbs hard into my forehead. Dear God. I don't know what I want or who I am. Apparently you do. Um ... that's great. Never mind. You have a terrible reputation here. You should know that. Oh, but I guess you do know that. Save me now. Or when it's convenient. We could run away together. This is stupid. What am I doing? I guess this is a prayer. I feel like an idiot, but I guess you knew that already, too. My sister said that god is music. Goodbye, Amen. I lay in my bed and waited for that thick, sweet feeling to wash over me, for that unreal semi-conscious state where the story begins and takes on a life of its own and all you have to do is close your eyes and give in and let go and give in and let go and go and go and go. — Miriam Toews

Just before six, Bee pulled three wineglasses out of the cabinet and uncorked the bottle of white that Greg had selected for us.
"Light the candles, dear, will you please?"
I reached for the matches and thought about the dinners at Bee's house during my childhood. Bee never served a meal without candles. "A proper supper requires candlelight," she'd told my sister and me years ago. I though it was elegant and exciting, and when I asked my mom if we could start the same tradition at home, she said no. "Candles are for birthday parties," she said, "and those only come once a year. — Sarah Jio

There have been a dozen times in the past when I should have liked a particular gentleman. When it would have been convenient, and appropriate, and easy. But no, I had to wait for someone special. Someone who would make my heart feel as if it's been trampled by elephants, thrown into the Amazon, and eaten by piranhas."
Amelia smiled at her compassionately. Her gloved hand slipped over Beatrix's. "Darling Bea. Would it console you to hear that such feelings of infatuation are perfectly ordinary?"
Beatrix turned her palm upward, returning the clasp of her sister's hand. Since their mother had died when Bea was twelve, Amelia had been a source of endless love and patience. "Is it infatuation?" she heard herself asking softly. "Because it feels much worse than that. Like a fatal disease."
"I don't know, dear. It's difficult to tell the difference between love and infatuation. Time will reveal it, eventually. — Lisa Kleypas

We used to have a family game, invented by my sister and a friend of hers - it was called 'Agatha's Husbands'. The idea was that they picked out two or at the most three of the most repellent looking strangers in a room, and it was then put to me that i had to choose one of them as a husband, on pain of death or slow torture by the Chinese.
'now then, Agatha, which will you have - the fat young one with pimples, and the scurfy head, or that black one like a gorilla with the bulging eyes?'
'Oh I can't - they're so awful.'
'You must - it's got to be one of them. Or else red hot needles and water torture.'
'Oh dear, then the gorilla. — Agatha Christie

You're going to choke one of these days," I tell him, feeling some of the tension from dealing with Flint ebb away. Eir shakes his head, still chewing and I say, "Wait until you swallow to speak, please." I smile and get up to get coffee for myself. Eir swallows and says, "How many cups does that make for you today, sister dear?" I grin at him and lean against the counter.

"I'd rather not say," I tell him and he laughs.

Eir looks at Flint. "My sister is the only person I know who can drink her weight in coffee and still come back for more. She has a serious caffeine addiction." I laugh despite myself, ignoring Flint and the smirk I'm certain is on his face.

Flint chuckles. "I never would have guessed. — Melissa Simmons

Far be it from me, my dear sister, to depreciate such pleasures. They would doubtless be congenial with the generality of female minds. But I confess they would have no charms for me. I should infinitely prefer a book. — Jane Austen

Figaro is a bad play. It stirs up hatred between the classes. In France, it has caused nothing but bitterness. My own dear sister,Antoinette, writes me that she is beginning to be frightened of her own people. — Peter Shaffer

There are women that men marry and there are women that men don't," Anne pronouned. "And you are the sort of mistress a man doesn't bother to marry. Sons or no sons."
"Yes," Mary said. "I expect your right. But there clearly is a third sort and that is the woman that men neither marry or take as their mistress. Woman that go home ... alone for Xmas. And thats seems to be you my dear sister. Good day. — Philippa Gregory

So come on out, my dear old sweet Sister, - & we'll open our oysters together. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

My dear sister, I can reassure you. Firstly, the beastly baby is Italian. Secondly, it was promptly christened at Santa Deodata's, and a powerful combination of saints watch over - — E. M. Forster

Rule the world," Raistlin repeated softly, his eyes burning. "Rule the world? You still don't undestand, do you, my dear sister? Let me make this as plain as I know how." Now it was his turn to stand up. Pressing his thin hands upon the desk, he leaned towards her, like a snake.
"I don't give damn about the world!" he said softly. "I could rule it tomorrow, if I wanted it! I don't. — Margaret Weis

I should like,' said the child, 'to leave my dear love to poor Oliver Twist; and to let him know how often I have sat by myself and cried to think of his wandering about in the dark nights with nobody to help him. And I should like to tell him,' said the child pressing his small hands together, and speaking with great fervour, 'that I was glad to die when I was very young; for, perhaps, if I had lived to be a man, and had grown old, my little sister who is in Heaven, might forget me, or be unlike me; and it would be so much happier if we were both children there together. — Charles Dickens

Zora Neale Hurston said fear is the greatest emotion and I said, 'No my dear sister.' Fear will make us move to save our own skins. Love also makes us save ourselves, but it will make us move to save others as well. — Sonia Sanchez

Irma, my dear sister,' said Prunesquallor, 'I have two things to say. Firstly, why in the name of discomfort are we hanging around in the hall and probably dying of a draught that as far as I'm concerned runs up my right trouser leg and sets my gluteous maximus twtiching; and secondly, what is wrong, when you boil the matter down - with feet? I have always found mine singularly useful, especially for walking with. In fact, ha, ha, ha, one might almost imagine that they have been designed for that very purpose. — Mervyn Peake

You may deem me romantic, my dear sister, but I bitterly feel the want of a friend. — Mary Shelley

All I could do was stare blankly at him.
"Look." He raised both hands, palms outward. "Daisy, I'm sorry. I had no idea."
"You had no idea you had a twin sister?"
"No idea she was coming." He sounded tired.
My tail began lashing back and forth in agitation. "Oh, and where exactly did Emmy pop in from, Sinny dear? Did she drive up from Kalamazoo? Because I don't recall you mentioning a sister. And it sounded a lot like jolly old England, which I don't recall you mentioning, either. Is that something else you put behind you? Or maybe putting on accents is a thing with the Palmer clan. Pip pip, cheerio- — Jacqueline Carey

Dear Cook, please lend a frying-pan To me as quickly as you can." "And wherefore should I lend it you?" "The reason, Cook, is plain to view. I wish to make an Irish stew." "What meat is in that stew to go?" "My sister'll be the contents!" "Oh!" "You'll lend the pan to me, Cook?" "No!" Moral: Never stew your sister. — Lewis Carroll