A Quote by Charles Dickens
"Do not repine, my friends," said Mr. Pecksniff, tenderly. "Do not weep for me. It is chronic."
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" ... It is not my desire to wound the feelings of any person with whom I am connected in family bonds. I may be a hypocrite," said Mr. Pecksniff, cuttingly, "but I am not a brute."
His [Pitt's] successor as prime minister was Mr. Addington, who was a friend of Mr. Pitt, just as Mr. Pitt was a friend of Mr. Addington; but their respective friends were each other's enemies. Mr. Fox, who was Mr. Pitt's enemy (although many of his friends were Mr. Pitt's friends), had always stood uncompromisingly for peace with France and held dangerously liberal opinions; nevertheless, in 1804, Mr. Fox and Mr. Pitt got together to overthrow Mr. Pitt's friend Mr. Addington, who was pushing the war effort with insufficient vigor.
He wiped away the tears, tenderly, and I forgot to weep as he told me silently everything I always wanted to hear.
When my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue Could scarcely cry weep weep weep weep. So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.
They’re going to ask what you said. And if I tell Mr. Twindell you said heaven will be like this, he’ll be very disappointed. He’s counting, you know, on gold streets and angels and horses with wings.” “I see where that could be a problem,” Ian agreed, and he tenderly laid his hand against his son’s cheek. “In that case, you can tell him I said this is almost heaven.
Mr. Crossley suddenly wondered why he was why he was worrying about the note. It was only a joke, after all. He cleared his throat. Everyone looked up hopefully. 'Somebody,' said Mr. Crossley, 'seems to have sent me a Halloween message.' And he read out the note: 'SOMEONE IN THIS CLASS IS A WITCH.' 6B thought this was splendid news. Hands shot up all over the room like a bed of beansprouts. 'It's me, Mr. Crossley!' 'Mr. Crossley, I'm the witch!' 'Can I be the witch, Mr. Crossley?' 'Me, Mr. Crossley, me, me, me!
Mr. Van Buren, your friends may be leaving you but my friends never leave me.
I hope people have pulled something about me and said "Hey Mr. T loves his mother, hey Mr. T ain't no dummy, hey Mr. T never grabbed his crotch," when you're talking about Hip-Hop culture.
The gym teacher's name was Mr. Caruso. Mr. Caruso did
not speak English. He spoke 'Gym.' One day I was playing
basketball and Mr. Caruso told me I would have to get
an athletic supporter. He didn't express himself exactly
that way, though. He said, 'Hey, you, one day you're gonna
go up for a rebound and the family jewels aren't gonna
go with ya.' I had no idea what he was talking about.
Next day I showed up for practice without my watch and
my mezuzah. He said, 'Did ya take care of the family jewels?'
I said, 'I left 'em in my locker.' Took us a half hour to
revive Mr. Caruso.
A man met a lad weeping. "What do you weep for?" he asked. "I am weeping for my sins," said the lad. "You must have little to do," said the man. The next day, they met again. Once more the lad was weeping. "Why do you weep now?" asked the man. "I am weeping because I have nothing to eat," said the lad. "I thought it would come to that," said the man.
And friends, dear friends,--when it shall be That this low breath is gone from me, And gone my bier ye come to weep, Let One, most loving of you all, Say, "Not a tear must o'er her fall; He giveth His beloved sleep.
Our friendship was based on my payouts. That wasn't a friendship when - as, for example, it's me, my friends, we are friends for many years, and it doesn't matter for me what the position is, where they work; we simply are friends. And with Mr. Berezovsky, our friendship was based on my payoffs.
You'll never have any trouble with Mr. T, I'm just a big, calm teddy bear kind of guy. Mr. T ain't ashamed to cry. When I go out and I meet people who are suffering and they come and talk to me, Mr. T cries, Mr. T who could break a man's jaw with his fist.
Freshman year of college, one of my coaches was out with family friends or whatever. Somebody said my name and kind of stuttered it or mumbled it. He was like, 'What'd you say? Mr. Biscuit?' instead of Mitchell Trubisky. It kind of stuck that week of practice, and that's what all the boys started calling me.
Robert Mueller, as Mr. Honest and as Mr. Sophisticated and as Mr. Integrity, as Mr. Cultured, as Mr. Elite, as Mr. Mannered knows full well there's nothing here, knows that there is no collusion, knows that there is no obstruction of justice, knows that if anybody is working with the Russians, it was not Donald Trump.
Our friends interpret the world and ourselves to us, if we take them tenderly and truly.
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