Mrs. Bennet: You must visit him at once.
Mrs. Bennet: Jane is a splendid dancer, is she not?
Rocky: Shut up! Mr Gazzo wants the 200 now.
Sutler: Spare us your professional annotations, Mr. Finch. They are irrelevant.
I'm not Mr. Mom, but there's just certain things I won't say anymore.
Mr. Memory: Am I Right Sir?
[repeated line] Rose Sayer: Mr. Allnut? Charlie Allnut: Yes, miss.
Mrs. Wilkinson: What have I told you about that arm?
Mr. Warrenn: What is this mess? An empty desk is an efficient desk.
Mr. Watson — Come here — I want to see you. [ ]
I've always found Mr. Disney to be somewhat of a shy person, a kid at heart.
Politically I did not like Mr. Lincoln, for in him I saw the destroyer.
Mr. Attlee is a very modest man. Indeed he has a lot to be modest about.
There was no singles problem until singles got so single-minded that they stopped wasting time with anyone ineligible. Before that, it was understood that one of society's main tasks was matchmaking. People with lifelong friendships and ties to local...
Would you believe I was in the neighborhood?” “No." “Well, how about that I needed to see you.” “Why? Did one of my neighbors call and say my cat’s been stalking their bunny?” One corner of his mouth went up. “You know, that sounds li...
In our national parlance, what's usually meant by the word "maverick" is someone who skirts the edge of sanity--or is so insane as to appear sane--who then does something absolutely insane and yet, after the passage of time, and especially if the mav...
It's like a bunch of hookers advertising their cellulite/ stretch- mark infested bodies to the highest bidder, and then claiming they deserve respect. Crawling on their hands and knees, pupils dilated on the high of greed, licking their lips almost t...
That was what stuck in the craws of all the good women of Deptford: Mrs Dempster had not been raped, as a decent woman would have been—no, she had yielded because a man wanted her. The subject was not one that could be freely discussed even among i...
Mr. Gweta looked ten years younger than Professor Khupe had expected. His jet-black hair was trimmed so neatly that it would make a manicured golf course look scruffy. His face was exceptionally smooth, giving the impression that he had been born wit...
Mrs. Allan's face was not the face of the girlbride whom the minister had brought to Avonlea five years before. It had lost some of its bloom and youthful curves, and there were fine, patient lines about eyes and mouth. A tiny grave in that very ceme...
No, we love war. War. Starvation. Plague. They fast-track us to enlightenment. “It's the mark of a very, very young soul,” Mr. Whittier used to say, “to try and fix the world. To try and save anyone from their ration of misery.” We have alway...
