Confess and be hanged.
I must confess, I was born at a very early age.
When you go before God, you can only confess one person's sins.
I confess, I do have to remind myself almost daily that there are people on this earth capable of reading, writing, eating and dressing themselves who believe their lives are ruled from billions of miles away, by the stars - and, of course, the planets.
I think we all ought to be careful about too much generalization on this issue, even as I confess to painting with a pretty broad brush myself!
Hereafter, if you should observe an occasion to give your officers and friends a little more praise than is their due, and confess more fault than you can justly be charged with, you will only become the sooner for it, a great captain.
I must really confess right here, the attraction was purely physical.
I must confess. Of all of the brotherhood, he was the one I loved first and he remains the one I love the most. For me, he is just the. . . one.
She knew that even pain can be confessed, but to confess happiness is to stand naked, delivered to the witness.
Sometimes when I've gone out and murdered somebody I go and confess and stuff. And then God loves me again.
The most any one can do is to confess as candidly as he can the grounds for the faith that is in him, and leave his example to work on others as it may.
The gospel frees us to confess our sins without fear of condemnation.
The beauty of the world and the orderly arrangement of everything celestial makes us confess that there is an excellent and eternal nature, which ought to be worshiped and admired by all mankind.
I confess I enjoy democracy immensely. It is incomparably idiotic, and hence incomparably amusing.
Invite good things into your life. When you confess good things based on what God is saying, you'll begin to see more favor!
I have to confess that I have so rarely experienced triumph that I cannot claim to know it well enough to judge, but it seems to be at best a momentary joy followed instantly by sadness, and, then, of necessity, by wariness.
All things I thought I knew; but now confess The more I know, I know, I know the less.
When you get saved, you get saved not because you deserve it, but because you simply let God save you and because you confess your own poor sinful state and your inability to save yourself.
It is a curious fact that no man likes to call himself a glutton, and yet each of us has in him a trace of gluttony, potential or actual. I cannot believe that there exists a single coherent human being who will not confess, at least to himself, that once or twice he has stuffed himself to bursting point on anything from quail financiere to flapjacks, for no other reason than the beastlike satisfaction of his belly.
The real mystery is this strange need. Why can't we just hide it and shut up? Why do we have to blab? Why do human beings need to confess?