Curiosity may have killed the cat, but her's curiosity could have massacred a pride of lions.
Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it was the sausage-maker who disposed of the body.
Curiosity killed the cat, but where human beings are concerned, the only thing a healthy curiosity can kill is ignorance.
Curiosity killed the cat.
Curiosity killed the cat, but for a while I was a suspect.
Ignorance killed the cat; curiosity was framed!
If curiosity killed the cat, it was satisfaction that brought it back.
'Curiosity never killed this cat’ — that’s what I’d like as my epitaph.
Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.
And didn't they say that, although curiosity killed the cat, satisfaction brought the beast back?
Curiosity might have killed the cat, but little girls usually fared much better.
Knowledge is Power. Ignorance is Bliss. But curiosity—even if it had killed the cat—is king.
Oh cat, I'd say, or pray: be-ootiful cat! Delicious cat! Exquisite cat! Satiny cat! Cat like a soft owl, cat with paws like moths, jewelled cat, miraculous cat! Cat, cat, cat, cat.
If I was to ask you tonight if you were saved? Do you say 'Yes, I am saved'. When? 'Oh so and so preached, I got baptized and...' Are you saved? What are you saved from, hell? Are you saved from bitterness? Are you saved from lust? Are you saved from cheating? Are you saved from lying? Are you saved from bad manners? Are you saved from rebellion against your parents? Come on, what are you saved from?
Curiosity killed the cat,” Fesgao remarked, his dark eyes unreadable. Aly rolled her eyes. Why did everyone say that to her? “People always forget the rest of the saying,” she complained. “‘And satisfaction brought it back.
We say that Christ so died that He infallibly secured the salvation of a multitude that no man can number, who through Christ's death not only may be saved, but are saved, must be saved, and cannot by any possibility run the hazard of being anything but saved.