Sorry Dear Quotes & Sayings

Well, Faye, dear, I'm sure Harlow's sorry she didn't think to ask if you'd been eaten by a shark. That's totally on her. — Elle Lothlorien

She had a lot of nerve signing her note "Love." [ ... ] But she did sign it that way: "Love." What did that mean? Did she mean it, or was it habit? She probably signed all of her letters with "Love." Dear Insured, We are sorry but your policy will not pay for your barium enema as it was done for recreational purposes. Love, Jody. Claims Dept ...
Maybe not. — Christopher Moore

Yes, I'm sorry for you - sorry to see you throwing away happiness with both hands and reaching out for something that would never make you happy. I'm sorry because you are such a fool you don't know there can't ever be happiness except when like mates like. If I were dead, if Miss Melly were dead and you had your precious honorable lover, do you think you'd be happy with him? Hell, no! You would never know him, never know what he was thinking about, never understand him any more than you understand music and poetry and books or anything that isn't dollars and cents. Whereas, we, dear wife of my bosom, could have been perfectly happy if you had ever given us half a chance, for we are so much alike. We are both scoundrels, Scarlett, and nothing is beyond us when we want something. We could have been happy, for I loved you and I know you, Scarlett, down to your bones, in a way that Ashley could never know you. And he would despise you if he did know... — Margaret Mitchell

Dear Professor Dumbledore, Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning. Yours sincerely, Harry Potter. — J.K. Rowling

And how are you?" said Winnie-the-Pooh.
Eeyore shook his head from side to side.
"Not very how," he said. "I don't seem to have felt at all how for a long time."
"Dear, dear," said Pooh, "I'm sorry about that. Let's have a look at you. — A.A. Milne

Dear Literary World, Sorry for breaking down your door ... I'll pay for that!!! Since I'm here and planning to stay a while, let me tell you some stories!! — C.K. Webb

Dear God," remarked Cell Phone boy. "I don't know what else to say." "'Sorry,'" she recommended. "I said that already." Blue considered. "Then, 'bye. — Maggie Stiefvater

No 'Middlemarch' for me," said Miss Barbara, with a wave of her hand. "I am too old for that. That means I've read it, my dear - the way an experienced reader like me can read a thing - in the air, in the newspapers, in the way everybody talks. No, that's not like going into a new neighborhood - that is getting to the secrets of the machinery, and seeing how everything, come the time, will run down, some to ill and harm, but all to downfall, commonplace, and prosiness. I have but little pleasure in that. And it's pleasure I want at my time of life. I'm too old to be instructed. If I have not learned my lesson by this time, the more shame to me, my dear." "But, Miss Barbara, you don't want only to be amused. Oh no: to have your heart touched, sometimes wrung even - to be so sorry, so anxious that you would like to interfere - to follow on and on to the last moment through all their troubles, still hoping that things will take a good turn." — Mrs. Oliphant

It was the winter after Mother died, and Mrs. Corbett and some of the Brother's wives came to call. They kept bleating on about how sorry they were and my poor dear mother. It was infuriating. They didn't know Mother at all; she never liked any of them. They were just nosy, noisy sheep. — Jessica Spotswood

We know that poverty is unpleasant; in fact, since it is so remote, we rather enjoy harrowing ourselves with the thought of its unpleasantness. But don't expect us to do anything about it. We are sorry for you lower classes, just as we are sorry for a, cat with the mange, but we will fight like devils against any improvement of your condition. We feel that you are much safer as you are. The present state of affairs suits us, and we are not going to take the risk of setting you free, even by an extra hour a day. So, dear brothers, since evidently you must sweat to pay for our trips to Italy, sweat and be damned to you. — George Orwell

Soraya-joon, I have done all that I could. Do not be sorry for us. Your mother and I await you upon your return. We love you more than we have loved life. After your dear brother name your first son. Live here if you like, but if you sell it take no less than one hundred thousand dollars. ~Bawbaw — Andre Dubus III

Fred, you next," the plump woman said.
"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"
"Sorry, George, dear."
"Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy and off he went. — J.K. Rowling

I'm sorry."
"Don't worry, dear," the woman said brightly. "The day I encounter Sophia again, I'll grab the nearest heavy object and bludgeon her myself."
Arriane flung out a hand to help Luce up, pulling her so hard her feet shot off the ground. "Dee's an old friend. And a first-class party animal, might I add. Got the metabolism of a donkey. She almost brought the Crusades to a grinding halt the night she seduced Saladin."
"Oh, nonsense!" Dee said, flapping a hand dismissively.
"She's the best storyteller, too," Annabelle added. "Or she was before she dropped off the face of the earth. Where've you been hiding, woman?"
The woman drew a deep breath and her golden eyes dampened. "Actually, I fell in love."
"Oh, Dee!" Annabelle crooned, clasping the woman's hand. "How wonderful."
"Otto Z. Otto." The woman sniffed. "May he rest ... "
"Dr. Otto," Daniel said, stepping out of the doorway. "You knew Dr. Otto?"
"Backwards and forwards. — Lauren Kate

There, there, dear, we're sorry that you'll keep on being you. It's rotten, but what are the choices...? — A. L. Kennedy

Dear God, I admit that I'm a sinner. I am sorry for my sins. Please forgive me and save me. I ask this in the name of Jesus, who died for me. I trust in him right now. I believe that the sinless blood of Jesus is sufficient to pay the price for my salvation. Thank you for hearing me and receiving me. Thank you for saving my soul. — Tim LaHaye

Dear Jutta, Sorry I have not written these past months. The fever is mostly gone now and you should not worry. I have been feeling very clearheaded lately and what I want to write about today is the sea. It contains so many colors. Silver at dawn, green at noon, dark blue in the evening. Sometimes it looks almost red. Or it will turn the color of old coins. Right now the shadows of clouds are dragging across it, and patches of sunlight are touching down everywhere. White strings of gulls drag over it like beads. It is my favorite thing, I think, that I have ever seen. Sometimes I catch myself staring at it and forget my duties. It seems big enough to contain everything anyone could ever feel. Say hello to Frau Elena and the children who are left. — Anthony Doerr

Dinnertime!" It was Isabelle, standing framed in the door of the library. She still had the spoon in her hand, though her hair had escaped from its bun and was straggling down her neck. "Sorry if I'm interrupting," she added, as an afterthought.
"Dear God," said Jace, "the dread hour is nigh."
Hodge looked alarmed. "I - I - I had a very filling breakfast," he stammered. "I mean lunch. A filling lunch. I couldn't possibly eat - "
"I threw out the soup," Isabelle said. "And ordered Chinese from that place downtown."
Jace unhitched himself from the desk and stretched. "Great. I'm starved."
"I might be able to eat a bite," admitted Hodge meekly. — Cassandra Clare

Only insofar as you enjoy being sorry, my dear, which, while it is a considerable amount, occurs only after the fact, thus making it a singularly ineffective deterrent, yes? — Jacqueline Carey

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

He asked her, 'Why do you feel sorry for me, Old Woman?'
The Old Woman stood beside him and looked out the window at the Garden, so beautiful, flowering and everywhere illuminated by the rays of the setting sun, and said, 'I feel sorry for you, dear Youth, because I know where you are gazing and what you are waiting for. I feel sorry for you and your mother.'
Perhaps because of these words, or perhaps because of something else, there was a change in the Youth's mood. The Garden, flowering behind the high fence below his window, and exuding a wonderful fragrance, suddenly seemed somehow strange to him; and an ominous sensation, a sudden fear, gripped his heart with a violent palpitation, like heady and languid fragrances rising from brilliant flowers.
'What is happening?' he wondered in confusion.
("The Poison Garden") — Valery Bryusov

Dear You, You are holding in your hands what was promised to you years ago. I'm sorry it took so long. But life, as is so often the case, is life and we forget about the promises we've made. You, however, are harder to forget. I know the world is crazy. I know love is not always the way it's meant to be. I know sometimes, things hurt. But I also know that we'll get through this. That our hearts will arrive on the other side, in one piece. That everything is beautiful, if we give it the chance to be. I've tried to write down what I saw and what you told me and I sincerely don't think I missed anything. Let me know if I have. I love you. I miss you. Me — Pleasefindthis

Eli: Dear Lord, thank you for giving me the strength and the conviction to complete the task you entrusted to me. Thank you for guiding me straight and true through the many obstacles in my path. And for keeping me resolute when all around seemed lost. Thank you for your protection and your many signs along the way. Thank you for any good that I may have done, I'm so sorry about the bad. Thank you for the friend I made. Please watch over her as you watched over me. Thank you for finally allowing me to rest. I'm so very tired, but I go now to my rest at peace. Knowing that I have done right with my time on this earth. I fought the good fight, I finished the race, I kept the faith. — Book Of Eli Movie

I'm sorry, Silvan. I didn't mean to wake you."
"I wouldn't have missed seeing my son getting barricaded in the privy by a wee lass for anything. Bonny fortune with your plan, m'dear. — Karen Marie Moning

Dear Miss Tremor. You are smart and kind and pretty. I think you have really excellent stuff under your clothes and I would like to see it, please. Let's go on a date and get married and you can be my rodent queen in my castle in the sewer. Love always and forever, --Mouse. P.S. I am sorry my rats ate some of your candy. — Gail Simone

He wrote so many letters that occasionally he would forget the name of the person he was writing to. "This is a letter to what's-his-name," he'd begin. "Jeane will know his name, ask Jeane." Jeane was our senate liaison and someone who knew nearly everyone. "Dear whoever," he would continue, "I just wanted to let you know how sorry I was to hear about your dad. I remember losing my dad when I was seventeen, and all I can say is it wasn't easy. Please know you'll be in our prayers over the coming weeks and months." I wondered if the governor would pray for somebody whose name he couldn't remember. Would he tell God to ask Jeane? — Barton Swaim

Dear Friend,
I'm sorry I haven't written to you in a couple of weeks, but I have been trying to 'participate' like Bill said. — Stephen Chbosky

Dear Miss Bird,
The Lady of North Farm had asked us to send you this map to Briery Swamp Lake, just in case. She thought you might be having trouble finding it on your own, and she is expecting you to be prompt. We are very sorry for the danger you will endure, but we eagerly await your arrival should you survive it, as we are in great need of your help. The Lady joins me in sending you good luck and best wishes.
Sincerely,
Ms. H. Kari Kagaki
T. E. A. Travel — Jodi Lynn Anderson

Dear Stanley, It was wonderful to hear from you Your letter made me feel like one of the other moms who can afford to send their kids to summer camp. I know it's not the same, but I am very proud of you for trying to make the best of a bad situation. Who knows? Maybe something good will come of this. Your father thinks he is real close to a breakthrough on his sneaker project. I hope so. The landlord is threatening to evict us because of the odor. I feel sorry for the little old lady who lived in a shoe. It must have smelled awful! — Louis Sachar

I'm sorry. He's driving me a little crazy this morning." "That's their job, dear. Sari's grandfather was a menace." She looked up with a smile. "And yet we love them. — Elizabeth Hunter

The human moral keyboard is limited, Adam One used to say: there's nothing you can play on it that hasn't been played before. And, my dear Friends, I am sorry to say this, but it has its lower notes. — Margaret Atwood

Dear Mom and Dad,
I know you're only trying to do what's best for me, but I don't think anyone knows for sure what's best. I love you and don't want to be a problem, so I've decided to go away. I know you'll say I'm not a problem, but I know I am. If you want to know why I'm doing this, you should ask Dr. Luce, who is a big liar! I am not a girl. I'm a boy. That's what I found out today. So I'm going where no one knows me. Everyone in Grosse Pointe will talk when they find out.
Sorry I took your money, Dad, but I promise to pay you back someday, with interest.
Please don't worry about me. I will be ALL RIGHT!
Despite it's contents, I signed this declaration to my parents: "Callie."
It was the last time I was ever their daughter. — Jeffrey Eugenides

Before I went to the Mess I made the excuse I wanted to get something out of my aeroplane, and climbed into the cockpit; I did this, however, to be able to say good-bye to the old dear; and I really felt dreadfully sorry to part with her. I get very attached to aeroplanes, and I am one of those people who think that they aren't so inanimate as we are told they are. — Charles Rumney Samson

Dear Edward and Jacob, I adore you both, but I'm spending the weekend with Jace. Sorry! Love, Stephenie — Stephenie Meyer

Dear Child of God, I am sorry to say that suffering is not optional. — Desmond Tutu

Dear motorist on the information superhighway. I'm sorry I do not have a car. — Eric San

Lidewij,
I believe Agustus Waters sent a few pages from a notebok to Peter Van Houten shortly before he (Augustus) died. It is very important to me that someone reads these pages. I want to read them, of course, but maybe they weren't written for me. Regardless, they must be read. They must be. Can you help?

Your friend,
Hazel Grace Lancaster

"She responded late that afternoon."

Dear Hazel,

I did not know that Augustus had died. I am very sad to hear this news. He was such a very charismatic young man. I am so sorry, and so sad.
I have not spoken to Peter since I resigned that day we met.
It is very late at night here, but I am going over to his house first thing in the morning to find this letter and force him to read it.
Mornings were his best time,
usually.

Your friend,
Lidewij Vliegenthart

p.s. I am bringing my boyfriend in case we have to physically retsrain Peter. — John Green

Dear Willem:
I've been trying to forget about you and our day in Paris for nine months now, but as you can see, it's not going all that well. I guess more than anything, I want to know, did you just leave? If you did, it's okay. I mean it's not, but if I can know the truth, I can get over it. And if you didn't leave, I don't know what to say. Except I'm sorry that I did.
I don't know what your response will be at getting this letter, like a ghost from your past. But no matter what happened, I hope you're okay. — Gayle Forman

When Jack came in he found him sitting before a tray of bird's skins and labels. Stephen looked up, and after a moment said, 'To a tormented mind there is nothing, I believe, more irritating than comfort. Apart from anything else it often implies superior wisdom in the comforter. But I am very sorry for your trouble, my dear.'
'Thank you, Stephen. Had you told me that there was always a tomorrow, I think I should have thrust your calendar down your throat. — Patrick O'Brian

I'm sorry, Nan," said Steve. "But I have to kill you." "That's a shame, dear. Mind if I finish my tea first? — Lee Moan

Dear rabbis, I'm so sorry, I nuked your circle dude. Here is his head as a souvenir. Yeah, that would fly. — Ilona Andrews

My dear children!"
Nellie whopped him upside the head with her backpack.
"Ow!" Uncle Alistair curled over, cupping his hand over his good eye.
"Nellie!" Amy said.
"Sorry," Nellie muttered. "I thought he was one of the bad guys. — Rick Riordan

Dear Sixpence,
I saved them all, you know. Every letter you ever sent, even those to which I never replied. I'm sorry for so many things, my love: that I left
you; that I never came home; that it took me so long to realize that you were my home and that, with you by my side, none of the rest
mattered.
But in the darkest hours, on the coldest nights, when I felt I'd lost everything, I still had your letters. And through them, in some small way,
I still had you.
I loved you then, my darling Penelope, more than I could imagine - just as I love you now, more than you can know.
Michael
Hell House, February 1831 — Sarah MacLean

Looking out of the window at the infinite sky, I prayed out, 'Dear Baby Jesus, I am sorry for my sin, even though I do not know what they are, which seems a bit unfair if it is going to be held against me. But that is your way. And I am not questioning your wisdomosity. In future, however, would it be possible for my life to be not so entirely crap? Thank you. — Louise Rennison

My dear children, I am very anxious that you should know something about the History of Jesus Christ. For everybody ought to know Him. No one ever lived, who was so good, so kind, so gentle, and so sorry for all people who did wrong, or were in anyway ill or miserable, as he was. And as he is now in Heaven, where we hope to go, and all to meet each other after we are dead, and there be happy always together, you never can think what a good place Heaven is, without knowing who he was and what he did.
Charles Dickens - 1849
The Life Of Our Lord — Charles Dickens

I said
"I love you so much it's killing me"
and you kept saying sorry
so I stopped explaining
for it never made sense to you
what always did to me
to let what you love
kill you
and never regret.
As Romeo is dying Juliet says
"I am willing to die to remain by your side"
and love was never a static place of rest
but the last second of euphoria
while throwing yourself out from a 20 store window
to be able to say
"I flew before I hit the ground",
and it was glorious.
Don't be sorry.
The fall was beautiful, dear.
The crash was beautiful. — Charlotte Eriksson

Those who have slept with sorry in their hearts
Know all too well how short but sweet
The instant of their coming-to can be:
The heart is strong, as if it ever sorrowed;
The mind's dear clarity intact; and then,
The vast, unhappy stone from yesterday
Rolls down these vital units to the bottom of oneself. — Christopher Logue

Morley joined them, and after a long, uncomfortable moment, Mrs. Grant decided to ignore his presence. The
guards didn't. Their knuckles were white on their weapons.
May I assist?" he asked, and put his hands behind his back. "I promise not to eat anyone."
Very funny," Mrs. Grant said. Morley gave her a grave look.
I wasn't joking, dear lady," he said. "I do promise. And I never make a promise I don't intend to keep. You
should feel quite secure."
Well, I'm sorry, I don't," she said. "You're just - "
Too overwhelmingly dashing and attractive?" Morley grinned. "A common problem women face with me.
It'll pass. You seem like the no-nonsense sort. I like that."
Claire smiled at the look on Mrs. Grant's face, reflected in the white LED light of the lantern she was holding.
You are really - odd," the older woman said, as if she couldn't quite believe she was even having the
conversation. — Rachel Caine

Dear Mr. Gibbon. Sorry I was absent. Here is some salted food. Please grade it the way you would a jenti piece of beef jerky. — Douglas Rees

The Sublime. The almost tangible, entirely believable, mathematically verifiable nirvana just a few right-angle turns away from dear boring old reality: a vast, infinite, better-than-virtual ultra-existence with no Off switch, to which species and civilizations had been hauling their sorry tired-with-it-all behinds off to since - the story went - the galaxy had still been in metaphorical knee socks. — Iain M. Banks

I don't know what young fellows want to go in for those sort of things for?" I said. "Wars are a waste of time; and advertising is all lies." "I am afraid, my dear Mister Le Page," he said, looking very sorry for me, "you are an anachronism. — G.B. Edwards

Dear God, i am so sorry for whatever i did, but honestly, was my sin that bad? — Katie McGarry

During the 1919 solar eclipse, people go out to measure the positions of the stars and they find exactly what Einstein predicted. Einstein gets a telegram saying this, and somebody asked him, Professor Einstein, what would you have said if the observations didn't agree with what your prediction of general relativity said should be happening? And Einstein said, "I'd be sorry for the dear lord; the theory is correct." What he meant by that is the math is just so elegant, so beautiful, so powerful, that almost seemingly it can't possibly be wrong. — Rivka Galchen

Adam returned his gaze to the cross. The Jesus was hurting. Guilt simmered and then boiled in him. Jesus had a whole world of suffering and horror to worry about and here Adam was in all his punk puniness. He didn't want to add to Jesus's burdens, but...

'Sorry about that. Look, I know you're busy and I don't want to get greedy with your time, but still, if you could just help me... If you could find a minute, please, please, please, dear sweet Jesus, fix me. — Teresa Toten

Dear Benjamin,
"You should know that I'm not sorry either. I'm not sorry that I want to do these things with you. I'm not sorry that I want you so much I can't think of anything but you. But most of all, I'm not sorry that I love you. I love you. I love you."
I pause and listen to the low scratch of a pencil on paper as it carries all of my feelings to him, my one.
Before I finish, to the heavenly sound of him sighing with pleasure.
"Yours always, Eleanor. — Charlotte Stein

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

Ysandre has
destroyed more lives than you can begin to imagine, starting with her own.' Myrnin's eyes were dark and very, very serious. 'If
she wants Shane, let her have him. She'll be done with him soon enough. Amelie won't allow her to kill him.'
'I think she wants other things,' Claire said.
'Ah. Sexual, then. Or some version of it. Ysandre has always been a bit - odd.'
'How do I stop her?'
Myrnin slowly shook his head. 'I'm sorry. I can't help you. My only suggestion - which I'm quite certain you won't like - is to
let him deal with this in his own way. She'll leave him alive, and largely intact, unless he resists her.'
'You're right. I don't like it.'
'Complain to the management, my dear. — Rachel Caine

Yes, dear Father. But has it ever occurred to you that by controlling [your feelings] you destroy them? How many times can we say sorry before we don't feel sorry anymore? — John Le Carre

Michael Palin : "I am sorry to interrupt you there Dennis, but he's crossed it out. Thomas Hardy here on the first day of his new novel has crossed out the only word he has written so far and he is gazing off into space. Ohh! Oh dear he's signed his name again."
Graham Chapman: "It looks like Tess of the D'Urbervilles all over again."
- Matching Tie and Handkerchief, "Novel Writing — Graham Chapman

Dear Asshole: Thank you for keeping your word and believing me. It was more than I expected. Also, I'm sorry you were inconvenienced by my gluing your locker shut at the beginning of this year. However, I am not sorry that I did it, because it was a lot of fun. Love, Alex. — Francesca Zappia

A Letter from a Muse to Her Poet: Dear sir, I was called away and couldn't bring you, but now I feel haunted. I know that sometimes you felt I was a part of you and that losing me would leave a hole in your heart, but that's not true. I liked to pretend I was the core of your talent, but it wasn't me. Everything you do, the ideas you weave, the lines you write, the words you choose, it was always only you. Please forgive me. I'm sorry that I didn't say goodbye. — Laura Whitcomb

Another voice rages.
I hate that boy! I hate me! I am so incredibly stupid!
A sunflower leans over the fence, smiling
How dare you!
I rip off its head and throw it in the gutter.
The smart thing to do is to keep going on. Walk away quickly and no one will know what I've done. But I can't move because my eyes are locked on the slowly opening front door - locked on Mrs Muir.
'I'm sorry.' My tiny voice sounds so pathetically lame, but I've still got more lameness for her. 'I never do this sort of thing. I like sunflowers. I was just angry about something - nothing to do with you or the flower. I'm really, really sorry.'
'Oh, you are upset! Well, never mind'. Mrs Muir comes closer to me. 'Goodness, we all get cross. The main thing is: did it make you feel any better?'
'No. Yes. Maybe. A little bit.'
'Would you like to do another one? There's more out the back, too. You go for your life dear. I don't mind at all - they need a good pruning. — Bill Condon

Sorry dear, i prefer cheap products not cheap people. — Lovely Goyal

Oh, dear God!" Janice bellowed and looked as though her neck was made of rubber as her head wobbled back and forth. Lou set the book back on the credenza as Janice stormed out. "Ashton, I'm sorry you had to witness that. As you well know, Mom has never been a pleasant woman. Since coming to live here, she's been a nightmare on two legs. I've had her head examined, and there's no tumor or disease to explain her behavior. The neurologist and our family doctor have simply diagnosed her as a chronic jackass. — Robin Alexander

No, of course not," Belle said, playfully swatting him on the shoulder. "I never, never even once thought I was making a mistake. I was just a bit at odds with myself because my wedding wasn't exactly how I dreamed it was going to be."
"I'm sorry," John said softly.
"No, no, don't be. Just because it wasn't what I thought I wanted doesn't mean it wasn't absolutely perfect. Oh, dear, am I making any sense at all.?"
John nodded solemnly.
"I thought that I needed a church and hundreds of guest and music that actually sounded like music, but I was wrong. What I needed was a drunken priest, irreverent guests, and a companion who learned to play piano from a goat."
"Then you got exactly what you needed."
"I suppose so. But then again, all I really needed was you."
John leaned down to kiss her again, and they remained thus occupied for the next hour. — Julia Quinn

They were so sorry, dear; they went down to meet each other in a taxi, honey; they had preferences in smiles and had met in Hindustan, and shortly afterward they must have quarrelled, for nobody knew and nobody seemed to care - yet finally one of them had gone and left the other crying, only to feel blue, to feel sad. — F Scott Fitzgerald

The worse thing I have done in my life is Diary writing ... a wastage of time, wastage of papers filled with some imaginary feelings and bunch of silly activities done each day ... I cant feel any glimpse of appreciable work done by me, as whatever right I did, my Diary says " you were suppose to do it, so it was not a big deal ... huhhh ... "
I passed my last few nights in reading most of its pages ... "I laughed on the lines telling about my saddest moments and nights when I cried ... .. but I felt woeful and downhearted on the lines telling about the moments when I shared my smile with someone, when I enjoyed the moments with my friends and near and dear ones, who r far and far now, and we can't get those moments back in this busy selfish life"
So now its better in busy life to live evry day and forget it in night ... enjoy life ... save papers ... no diary writing from today ... Sorry Diary, You will Miss Me ... — Saket Assertive

Away from courting me - " Gabriel expanded. "I'm sorry to have made you run so fast, my dear," he said, with a grateful sense of favours — Thomas Hardy

Oh, fine,' Ken said. He took the piece of yellow paper and flipped it over and wrote: 'Dear Mr. Reed, I'm sorry the client wasn't entirely satisfied with your draft prospectus. However, even sticklers for grammar are divided over the question as to whether it is necessarily incorrect to begin a sentence with the word 'and.' I hope that allays your concerns. — Paul Schmidtberger

One of the silliest lines ever said in a feature film came from Love Story, the 1970s hit, which immortalized the phrase, "Love means never having to say you're sorry." There are few people who would actually want to share a life with someone who held that concept near and dear. — Margaret Kennedy

Corvid looked up at her. "Oh, hello Doris."
"Gertie, dear," she said. "They call me Gertie."
"You used to be Doris," Corvid said as a matter of fact.
"Who?" She seemed unsure of what she was being told.
"Doris, daughter of Oceanus and Tethys?" Corvid carried on when he saw her blank expression. "You must remember Nereus? Your husband?"
Nothing.
"You gave birth to fifty sea nymphs. I guess sea nymphs come out slippy and hydrodynamic, but even so, fifty of them? That must stick in the memory as the day before you felt really sore for a month or so?"
Doris thought about it for a moment. "It does ring a bell. Sorry, who are you? — Dylan Perry

My dear friend, what is this our life? A boat that swims in the sea, and all one knows for certain about it is that one day it will capsize. Here we are, two good old boats that have been faithful neighbors, and above all your hand has done its best to keep me from "capsizing"! Let us then continue our voyage - each for the other's sake, for a long time yet, a long time! We should miss each other so much! Tolerably calm seas and good winds and above all sun - what I wish for myself, I wish for you, too, and am sorry that my gratitude can find expression only in such a wish and has no influence at all on wind or weather! — Friedrich Nietzsche

Oh I'm sorry dear, because she's a spoiled brat and doesn't think about the consequences of her actions. Is that better? — Evelyn Smith

Dear wife, I'm sorry that I am mysteriously incapable of folding clean laundry, but I iron, oh, I iron. Sweetheart, I'll make your white shirt so crisp and sharp that it will split atoms as you walk. — Sherman Alexie

Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who is gone at last! Even muggles like yourself should be celebrating this happy, happy day. — J.K. Rowling

It would distort markets. Besides, if I bought a load of gold when I thought the price was going up, then it would drive up the price at that point. When I came to sell in the future it would depress the price. Thus, I wouldn't make the killing I thought I would, would I?"
"Yeah, but futures contracts."
"Same thing, dear boy."
"Art, then."
"If I bought Constable's Hay Wain direct from the artist it wouldn't have the same cachet as it does today. The absence of that piece from the market might mean that all of his work was devalued."
"Yeah, but you could bring another piece back."
"Ah, then the paint and canvas wouldn't age correctly. For older objets d'art, the carbon dating would show it was younger than it should be. Sorry, Kevin. You're not going to get rich by temporal smuggling or speculation. — Mark Speed

I know you better than you think, Captain Thorne. I know that you're smart. And brave. And thoughtful and kind and - " "Charming." " - charming and - " "Charismatic." " - charismatic and - " "Handsome." She pressed her lips and glared at him, but his mocking grin had swept away any hints of sincerity. "Sorry," he said. "Please, continue." "Perhaps more vain than I'd realized." He threw his head back and laughed. Then, to her surprise, he reached over and took her hand, his other arm still around her waist. "For having such limited social experience, you, my dear, are an excellent judge of character. — Marissa Meyer

Dear David, I'm sorry, but it's not going to happen the way we planned it. I can't do it. I know you're just going to think I'm being a stupid teenager, but this is my life and if I'm going to be here for years, I have to do this my way. I'll still be able to do my job from outside of Erudite. So tomorrow, at the Choosing Ceremony, Andrew and I are going to choose Abnegation together. I hope you're not angry. I guess even if you are, I won't hear about it. - Natalie — Veronica Roth

Dear Fisher, I guess this is it, huh? After almost fourteen years together, starting a life of our own on this island, five tours of duty and countless letters I've written you through it all, I finally go out to the mailbox and see something I've always dreamed of: an envelope with your handwriting on it. For one moment, I actually thought you'd changed your mind. That all the awful things you said to me were just your way of coping after everything you'd been through. I was still here, Fisher. I was still here, holding my breath, waiting for you to come back even though you told me you never would. You always said you'd find your way back to me. Out of all the lies you've told me, this one hurts the most. Enclosed you will find the signed divorce papers, as requested. I hope you find what you're looking for. I'm sorry it wasn't me. Lucy — Tara Sivec

'Dear me, dear me,' replied a testy voice, 'I am very sorry for it, but what am I to do? I can't build it up again. The chief magistrate of the city can't go and be a rebuilding of people's houses, my good sir. Stuff and nonsense!' 'But the chief magistrate of the city can prevent people's houses from having any need to be rebuilt, if the chief magistrate's a man, and not a dummy - can't he, my lord?' cried the old gentleman in a choleric manner. — Charles Dickens