Many a grave embraces friend and foe, And grins in scorn at this most sorry show; A multitude of corses passed therein-- Alas! Time almost reaps e'er he doth sow!
I am sorry to see how small a piece of religion will make a cloak.
Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before--more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle.
One does not have to imagine people perfect in order to love them, Mr. Monk. Love acknowledges faults, weaknesses, even the need now and again for forgiveness where there is no repentance and no understanding of fault. We learn at different speeds. Elissa had many strengths, many virtues, and she was unflinchingly brave. I think she was the bravest woman I ever knew. I am truly sorry she is dead, but I cannot believe Kristian killed her, unless he has changed beyond all recognition from the man I knew.
It should have been unbearable to face this sorry inventory, yet for some reason it was not.
A conscience without regrets ~ to live life without having to say you're sorry.
focus—keep the memory of the kiss we shared before I met Cooper in the forefront of my mind. It was nice. Passionate even. There was a spark, I know there was. I just need to get back to that place. Yet I tense up when he moves in closer. “Is it the cameras?” he whispers in my ear. I have no idea how to answer, so I tell him the truth. Well, mostly the truth. It was difficult for me to forget the cameras even before I met Cooper. “Maybe a little.” A member of the Throb crew comes out from nowhere. “Sorry to interrupt, guys. But can you speak a little louder? We can’t pick up your voices out here too easily.” Flynn sighs loudly. “Yeah. No problem.
wanted to love you. I’ve wanted to take all the hurt away, to hold you and protect you and make you laugh, and smile, and show you what love is. I’ve wanted to show you for so long that you are worthy of being loved, for exactly who you are. And I tried to deny that, I tried to convince myself…that I wasn’t good enough, that I would do nothing but hurt you. And I have. And I’m sorry. I was afraid. I was afraid of loving someone as delicate and beautiful and unique as you. I knew I only had one chance, and I was terrified I would make a mess of it and you’d only become sadder, and more convinced you were unlovable. I was afraid of my own shortcomings, and because of that I hurt you.
I’m sorry, but your family’s all right.” “Yes. God has delivered us all. Jehovah is a great God.” He could not think of what to say, but at that moment Joshua and Caleb were passing by. They were both weary with battle, but Joshua’s eyes took in the pair. He came over at once and said, “This is Rahab, I take it?” “Yes, sir.” “We owe you a great debt, young woman,” Joshua said warmly. “Have you been taken care of?” Rahab was warmed by the man’s thoughtful air. He was rough-looking and his voice was rather gruff, but he had kind eyes. “Yes. Ardon has seen to it that we have a place to live and food to eat.
"If people are good only because they fear punishment, and hope for reward,
Top Ten Things Overheard At The ANSI C Draft Committee Meetings:
To me, “FEARLESS” is not the absence of fear. It’s not being completely unafraid. To me, FEARLESS is having fears. FEARLESS is having doubts. Lots of them. To me, FEARLESS is living in spite of those things that scare you to death. FEARLESS is falling madly in love again, even though you’ve been hurt before. FEARLESS is walking into your freshmen year of high school at fifteen. FEARLESS is getting back up and fighting for what you want over and over again… even though every time you’ve tried before, you’ve lost. It’s FEARLESS to have faith that someday things will change. FEARLESS is having the courage to say goodbye to someone who only hurts you, even if you can’t breathe without them. I think it’s FEARLESS to fall for your best friend, even though he’s in love with someone else. And when someone apologizes to you enough times for things they’ll never stop doing, I think it’s FEARLESS to stop believing them. It’s FEARLESS to say “you’re NOT sorry”, and walk away. I think loving someone despite what people think is FEARLESS. I think allowing yourself to cry on the bathroom floor is FEARLESS. Letting go is FEARLESS. Then, moving on and being alright…That’sFEARLESS too. But no matter what love throws at you, you have to believe in it. You have to believe in love stories and prince charmings and happily ever after. That’s why I write these songs. Because I think love is FEARLESS.
It is for homely features to keep home,-- They had their name thence; coarse complexions And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply The sampler and to tease the huswife's wool. What need a vermeil-tinctur'd lip for that, Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn?
If people are good only because they fear punishment, and hope for reward, then we are a sorry lot indeed.
Ummm, well, OK. The network's the network, the computer's the computer.
You will hear every day the maxims of a low prudence. You will hear, that the first duty is to get land and money, place and name. "What is this Truth you seek? What is this Beauty?" men will ask, with derision. If, nevertheless, God have called any of you to explore truth and beauty, be bold, be firm, be true. When you shall say, "As others do, so will I. I renounce, I am sorry for it, my early visions; I must eat the good of the land, and let learning and romantic expectations go, until a more convenient season." — then dies the man in you; then once more perish the buds of art, and poetry, and science, as they have died already in a thousand thousand men. The hour of that choice is the crisis of your history; and see that you hold yourself fast by the intellect. … Bend to the persuasion which is flowing to you from every object in Nature, to be its tongue to the heart of man, and to show the besotted world how passing fair is wisdom.
Literature is a great staff, but a sorry crutch.
I am right sorry for your heavinesse.
Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away.
Live, travel, adventure, bless, and don't be sorry.
Another effective technique is to explain your code to someone else. This will often cause you to explain the bug to yourself. Sometimes it takes no more than a few sentences, followed by an embarrassed "Never mind, I see what's wrong. Sorry to bother you." This works remarkably well; you can even use non-programmers as listeners. One university computer center kept a teddy bear near the help desk. Students with mysterious bugs were required to explain them to the bear before they could speak to a human counselor.
Don't feel sorry for yourself. Only assholes do that.
All your files have been destroyed (sorry). Paul.
"Unibus timeout fatal trap program lost sorry"
A multitude of sparks yields but a sorry light.
To be penitent, to feel sorry for sin, to shed tears, to even make decisions does not bring in salvation. Confession, decision, and many other religious acts can never be and are not to be construed as new birth. Rational judgment, intelligent understanding, mental acceptance, or the pursuit of the good, the beautiful, and the true are merely soulical activities if the spirit is not reached and stirred.
She thought about her cousins in Oklahoma, which was odd, since she'd never spent much time with them. She didn't even know them very well. Now she was sorry about that.
Let us endeavor to live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry.
It is a sorry goose that will not baste itself.
I've never been lonely. I've been in a room -- I've felt suicidal. I've been depressed. I've felt awful -- awful beyond all -- but I never felt that one other person could enter that room and cure what was bothering me...or that any number of people could enter that room. In other words, loneliness is something I've never been bothered with because I've always had this terrible itch for solitude. It's being at a party, or at a stadium full of people cheering for something, that I might feel loneliness. I'll quote Ibsen, "The strongest men are the most alone." I've never thought, "Well, some beautiful blonde will come in here and give me a fuck-job, rub my balls, and I'll feel good." No, that won't help. You know the typical crowd, "Wow, it's Friday night, what are you going to do? Just sit there?" Well, yeah. Because there's nothing out there. It's stupidity. Stupid people mingling with stupid people. Let them stupidify themselves. I've never been bothered with the need to rush out into the night. I hid in bars, because I didn't want to hide in factories. That's all. Sorry for all the millions, but I've never been lonely. I like myself. I'm the best form of entertainment I have. Let's drink more wine!
From the direction he crawled after he was shot.' Mellas tossed the wallet down at Fitch. Then he dug into his pocket and pulled out the soldier's unit and rank patches. he looked at them, then at Fitch and Hawke, who were no longer eating. 'I let him crawl toward home with his guts hanging out.' He started sobbing. 'I just left him there.' Snot was streaming from his nose. 'I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry.' His hands were now shaking with his body as he clenched the two pieces of cloth to his eyes.
No man can be sorry for seeking advice, or happy if he blindly follows out his own thoughts.
The Ideal always has to grow in the Real, and to seek out its bed and board there in a very sorry way.
Oh, sorry. Sadie, here. You didn’t think I’d let my brother prattle on forever, did you? Please, no one deserves a curse that horrible.
That were but a sorry art which could be comprehended all at once; the last point of which could be seen by one just entering its precincts.
I sit on a man's back, choking him, and making him carry me, and yet assure myself and others that I am very sorry for him and wish to ease his lot by any means possible, except getting off his back.
That was a whore’s version of Hallmark. I’m sorry for reaming your ass.
I know he likes me. Of course I flatter him dreadfully. I find a strange pleasure in saying things to him that I know I shall be sorry for having said.
Women want their men to be cops. They want you to punish them and tell them what the limits are. The only thing that women hate worse from a man than being slapped is when you get on your knees and say you're sorry. -- Mort Sahl
We are sorry. We cannot complete your call as dialed. Please check the number and dial again or ask your operator for assistance. This is a recording.
on how you look at it. :-)
-- Larry Wall in <1991Apr22.175438.8564@jpl-devvax.jpl.nasa.gov>
I'm sorry if the correct way of doing things offends you.
A lawyer named Strange was shopping for a tombstone. After he had made his selection, the stonecutter asked him what inscription he would like on it. "Here lies an honest man and a lawyer," responded the lawyer. "Sorry, but I can't do that," replied the stonecutter. "In this state, it's against the law to bury two people in the same grave. However, I could put ``here lies an honest lawyer'', if that would be okay." "But that won't let people know who it is" protested the lawyer. "Certainly will," retorted the stonecutter. "people will read it and exclaim, "That's Strange!"
Only someone with nothing to be sorry for smiles back at the rear of an elephant.
Top Ten Things Overheard At The ANSI C Draft Committee Meetings: (10) Sorry, but that's too useful. (9) Dammit, little-endian systems *are* more consistent! (8) I'm on the committee and I *still* don't know what the hell #pragma is for. (7) Well, it's an excellent idea, but it would make the compilers too hard to write. (6) Them bats is smart; they use radar. (5) All right, who's the wiseguy who stuck this trigraph stuff in here? (4) How many times do we have to tell you, "No prior art!" (3) Ha, ha, I can't believe they're actually going to adopt this sucker. (2) Thank you for your generous donation, Mr. Wirth. (1) Gee, I wish we hadn't backed down on 'noalias'.
Q: How many gradual (sorry, that's supposed to be "graduate") students does it take to screw in a light bulb? A: "I'm afraid we don't know, but make my stipend tax-free, give my advisor a $30,000 grant of the taxpayer's money, and I'm sure he can tell me how to do the gruntwork for him so he can take the credit for answering this incredibly vital question."
Robustness, adj.: Never having to say you're sorry.
I'm sorry, but my karma just ran over your dogma.
By the way, I can hardly feel sorry for you... All last night I had to listen to her tears, so great they were redirected to a stream. What? Of _course_ you didn't know. You and your little group no longer have any permissions around here. She changed her .lock files, too. -- Kevin M. Bealer, commenting on the private life of a Linux nerd
Let us endeavor so to live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be
-- Mark Twain, "Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar"
All your files have been destroyed (sorry). Paul.
Woody: How are you feeling today, Mr. Peterson? Norm: Poor. Woody: Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Norm: No, I meant `pour'. -- Cheers, Strange Bedfellows, Part 3 Woody: Hey, Mr. Peterson, what's the story? Norm: Boy meets beer. Boy drinks beer. Boy gets another beer. -- Cheers, The Proposal Paul: Hey Norm, how's the world been treating you? Norm: Like a baby treats a diaper. -- Cheers, Tan 'n Wash
As a general rule of thumb, never trust anybody who's been in therapy for more than 15 percent of their life span. The words "I am sorry" and "I am wrong" will have totally disappeared from their vocabulary. They will stab you, shoot you, break things in your apartment, say horrible things to your friends and family, and then justify this abhorrent behavior by saying: "Sure, I put your dog in the microwave. But I feel *better* for doing it." -- Bruce Feirstein, "Nice Guys Sleep Alone"
A man is crawling through the Sahara desert when he is approached by another man riding on a camel. When the rider gets close enough, the crawling man whispers through his sun-parched lips, "Water... please... can you give... water..." "I'm sorry," replies the man on the camel, "I don't have any water with me. But I'd be delighted to sell you a necktie." "Tie?" whispers the man. "I need *water*." "They're only four dollars apiece." "I need *water*." "Okay, okay, say two for seven dollars." "Please! I need *water*!", says the man. "I don't have any water, all I have are ties," replies the salesman, and he heads off into the distance. The man, losing track of time, crawls for what seems like days. Finally, nearly dead, sun-blind and with his skin peeling and blistering, he sees a restaurant in the distance. Summoning the last of his strength he staggers up to the door and confronts the head waiter. "Water... can I get... water," the dying man manages to stammer. "I'm sorry, sir, ties required."
This is Jim Rockford. At the tone leave your name and message; I'll get back to you. This is Maria, Liberty Bail Bonds. Your client, Todd Lieman, skipped and his bail is forfeit. That's the pink slip on your '74 Firebird, I believe.
This is Marilyn Reed, I wanta talk to you... Is this a machine? I don't
talk to machines! [Click]
-- "The Rockford Files"
Three Midwesterners, a Kansan, a Missourian and an Iowan, all appearing on a quiz program, were asked to complete this sentence: "Old MacDonald had a . . ." "Old MacDonald had a carburetor," answered the Kansan. "Sorry, that's wrong," the game show host said. "Old MacDonald had a free brake alignment down at the service station," said the Missourian. "Wrong." "Old MacDonald had a farm," said the Iowan. "CORRECT!" shouts the quizmaster. "Now for $100,000, spell 'farm.'" "Easy," said the Iowan. "E-I-E-I-O."
Mr. Rockford? Miss Collins from the Bureau of Licenses. We got your renewal before the extended deadline but not your check. I'm sorry but at midnight you're no longer licensed as an investigator. -- "The Rockford Files"
Love means having to say you're sorry every five minutes.
"This is the element_data structure for elements whose *element_type = FORM_TYPE_SELECT_ONE, FORM_TYPE_SELECT_MULT. */ /* * nesting deeper and deeper, harder and harder, go, go, oh, OH, OHHHHH!! * Sorry, got carried away there. */ struct lo_FormElementOptionData_struct." -- Mozilla source code
O love, could thou and I with fate conspire To grasp this sorry scheme of things entire, Might we not smash it to bits And mould it closer to our hearts' desire? -- Omar Khayyam, tr. FitzGerald
Love means never having to say you're sorry. -- Eric Segal, "Love Story" That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. -- Ryan O'Neill, "What's Up Doc?"
Ummm, well, OK. The network's the network, the computer's the computer.
-- Sun Microsystems
"Unibus timeout fatal trap program lost sorry" -- An error message printed by DEC's RSTS operating system for the PDP-11
We're fantastically incredibly sorry for all these extremely unreasonable things we did. I can only plead that my simple, barely-sentient friend and myself are underprivileged, deprived and also college students. -- Waldo D. R. Dobbs
If you're going to do something tonight that you'll be sorry for tomorrow morning, sleep late. -- Henny Youngman
We're all sorry for the other guy when he loses his job to a machine. But when it comes to your job -- that's different. And it always will be different. -- McCoy, "The Ultimate Computer", stardate 4729.4
THE OLD POOL SHOOTER had won many a game in his life. But now it was time to hang up the cue. When he did, all the other cues came crashing go the floor. "Sorry," he said with a smile. -- Jack Handley, The New Mexican, 1988.
I'm sorry if the following sounds combative and excessively personal, but that's my general style. -- Ian Jackson
"I went to a job interview the other day, the guy asked me if I had any questions , I said yes, just one, if you're in a car traveling at the speed of light and you turn your headlights on, does anything happen? He said he couldn't answer that, I told him sorry, but I couldn't work for him then. -- Steven Wright
If people are good only because they fear punishment, and hope for reward, then we are a sorry lot indeed. -- Albert Einstein
-- Ian Main
Everybody but Sam had signed up for a new company pension plan that called for a small employee contribution. The company was paying all the rest. Unfortunately, 100% employee participation was needed; otherwise the plan was off. Sam's boss and his fellow workers pleaded and cajoled, but to no avail. Sam said the plan would never pay off. Finally the company president called Sam into his office. "Sam," he said, "here's a copy of the new pension plan and here's a pen. I want you to sign the papers. I'm sorry, but if you don't sign, you're fired. As of right now." Sam signed the papers immediately. "Now," said the president, "would you mind telling me why you couldn't have signed earlier?" "Well, sir," replied Sam, "nobody explained it to me quite so clearly before."
I feel sorry for your brain... all alone in that great big head...
I've always felt sorry for people that don't drink -- remember, when they wake up, that's as good as they're gonna feel all day!
Climbing onto a bar stool, a piece of string asked for a beer. "Wait a minute. Aren't you a string?" "Well, yes, I am." "Sorry. We don't serve strings here." The determined string left the bar and stopped a passer-by. "Excuse, me," it said, "would you shred my ends and tie me up like a pretzel?" The passer-by obliged, and the string re-entered the bar. "May I have a beer, please?" it asked the bartender. The barkeep set a beer in front of the string, then suddenly stopped. "Hey, aren't you the string I just threw out of here?" "No, I'm a frayed knot."
One evening Mr. Rudolph Block, of New York, found himself seated at dinner alongside Mr. Percival Pollard, the distinguished critic. "Mr. Pollard," said he, "my book, _The Biography of a Dead Cow_, is published anonymously, but you can hardly be ignorant of its authorship. Yet in reviewing it you speak of it as the work of the Idiot of the Century. Do you think that fair criticism?" "I am very sorry, sir," replied the critic, amiably, "but it did not occur to me that you really might not wish the public to know who wrote it." -- Ambrose Bierce