It's so warm down here.
We've got a meeting at two and it's almost one-thirty now.
It's always something, isn't it?
It's about time you spent some money on yourself.
It's just a veterinary clinic.
It's feminine enough, but it looks like something grandma would wear.
"It's only a picture of the baby, mother," he said.
It's the wolf, I'm sure!
Choose what you will; it's all the same.
It's nice, isn't it?
In one sense, it's a peaceful world: The bully insists on the lunch money of the small kid, who has no recourse but to capitulate.
It's the same old wolf that has been skulking around here all winter.
It's not pleasant, but what's to be done, my dear fellow?
It's winter - or was at home.
Why, it's Oz, the Wonderful Wizard, come back again!
At last James Hogg said, "It's of no use; all we can do is to go home and tell the master that we have lost his whole flock."
He says it's only a few miles away and we'll be right back.
"It's all wrong," said Zeb, gravely.
It's wool and is a bit scratchy.
It's Mr. Anagnos's property until it is published.
"It's the saute, most likely," she added with a smile.
"It's over here," Jonathan said, leading them toward a large shed.
"Yes; but it's lots of fun, if it IS strange," remarked the small voice of the kitten, and Dorothy turned to find her pet walking in the air a foot or so away from the edge of the roof.
The fishermen talked in low tones with one another for a little while, and then one said, It's a bargain.
It's rather stupid business, I think.
This morning I turned them all out and now look, it's full again.
It's all one to you!
It's been almost a week.
I heard they had the airport cleared for flights now that it's stopped snowing.
We had a glorious thunder-tempest last night, and it's much cooler to-day.
It's easy enough, however, to say Helen is wonderful, because she really is.
It's too late now when Vienna is occupied by the French army!
It's a shame for a soldier to steal; a soldier must be honest, honorable, and brave, but if he robs his fellows there is no honor in him, he's a scoundrel.
Princess, it's God's will!
"Let me alone; it's not true!" she cried angrily to him.
It's all a trick," said Dunyasha, "and when Yakov Alpatych returns let us get away... and please don't..."
It's as the old men have decided--there's too many of you giving orders.
It's not true... it's not true...
You see, brothers, I know it's hard for you, but it can't be helped!
"Well, you know," said the sharp-nosed man they called Jackdaw in a squeaky and unsteady voice, raising himself at the other side of the fire, "a plump man gets thin, but for a thin one it's death.
Yes, it's all very well for you.
Why is it good when you adopt a baby that isn't yours, but bad if it's yours and you don't give birth to it?
Yeah, I think it's more like a miniature rodeo.
Come. It's time for you to join the others.
I hope it's not that unpleasant.
Well, it's nice to know where I stand.
"It's good, anyway," said Zeb, "or those little rascals wouldn't have gobbled it up so greedily."
"I'll bet it's because they ate that peach!" cried the kitten.
But in some ways, it's like antique furniture.
It's such an age...
It's queer," he added after a pause, "that you should have suspected me!"
It's in charge of the queer fellow we saw without his boots.
It's heavy, lads--solid books.
"It's all the same to him," he muttered, turning quickly to a soldier who stood behind him.
Go away, all of you; it's not true!
It's all nonsense, all rubbish--those discussions which lead to nothing and all those idiotic societies!
It's who bought them.
I'd like to, but if it's too much trouble...
I guess it's just something different - something we aren't used to yet.
"It's beautiful," she said breathlessly.
If he treats me differently than others, I'm sure it's because we are married.
"It's Christmas Eve," she said softly.
It's not like that at all.
"Maybe it's even nicer inside," She said with a forced smile.
It's a Dramamine patch.
"It's good to be home," he whispered, "with the people who mean the most to me."
It's a sin... outside marriage.
It's the only way to get out of the Valley of Voe.
"Oh, it's only some old robins!" said the second lawyer, whose name was Hardin.
It's called a quadrillion.
It's a bad lookout, old fellow!
It's not a case of carting.
It's awful with those sausage eaters!
"Yes, I heard," said he sympathetically, and after a short pause added: "Yes, it's Scythian warfare.
It's windy and dry... said another voice.
See what it's doing now.
It's such pain, you know, that I wonder how he can bear it.
"It's here, close by," said she and, running across the yard, opened a gate in a wooden fence and, stopping, pointed out to him a small wooden wing of the house, which was burning brightly and fiercely.
"It's alright," she said, standing.
It's a strange feeling.
It's a reality - like morning sickness.
I guess it does sound dull when I talk about it, but it's never dull to me, and Alex seems to be happy with things.
"None of us has had breakfast," said the boy; "and in a time of danger like this it's foolish to talk about eating."
"It's true enough," returned the girl, earnestly.
"It's lucky we got here, though," said the boy; and Jim thought of the dark cave, and agreed with him.
It's Zeb--and Jim, too! he exclaimed.
Plus, it's all about to speed way, way up.
It's all very well for you...
Yes, it's a nice purse.
"There, it's just as I thought," said Rostov to himself.
You worked like wegular bwicks and it's nasty work!
"I know," interrupted Bilibin, "you're thinking it's very easy to take marshals, sitting on a sofa by the fire!
Don't you see it's a woman? said Prince Andrew riding up to the officer.
"It's nothing," replied Prince Andrew.
It's all the Frenchy can do to keep up with him.
It's fine! answered Sidorov, who was considered an adept at French.
It's all the same now.
No, you know it's too soon for news.
Now it's your turn.
It's not nonsense, Papa.
"It's dirty," replied Prince Andrew, making a grimace.
"No, he's not dead--it's impossible!" she told herself and approached him, and repressing the terror that seized her, she pressed her lips to his cheek.
Perhaps it's his brat that the fellow is looking for.
"No, it's not possible!" he cried aloud.
"But it's all the same now," Pierre could not help saying.
Our luck is like water in a dragnet: you pull at it and it bulges, but when you've drawn it out it's empty!
No, it's not that, but worse.
"Yes, they say it's burned," he said.
"It's getting light, it's really getting light!" he exclaimed.
I know I am not worthy of her, I know it's impossible to speak of it now.
Maybe she thinks it's a miss-match for you.
In other words, it's none of my business.
It's great and I love it.
"Yes; it's a good way off, but I can see it," she replied.
It's no place for us, Zeb.
Only it's not set to music.
It's queer how ready people always are with advice in any real or imaginary emergency, and no matter how many times experience has shown them to be wrong, they continue to set forth their opinions, as if they had received them from the Almighty!
"I often think, though, perhaps it's a sin," said the princess, "that here lives Count Cyril Vladimirovich Bezukhov so rich, all alone... that tremendous fortune... and what is his life worth?
It's that protege of yours, that sweet Princess Drubetskaya, that Anna Mikhaylovna whom I would not take for a housemaid... the infamous, vile woman!
"Yes, it's from Julie," replied the princess with a timid glance and a timid smile.
It's a bad business, eh?
It's in the Emperor's service... it can't be helped... one is sometimes a bit hasty on parade...
"It's different on different days," answered the captain.
It's a long, long way.
And it's a horse you'll thank me for.
It's the quartermaster for the money.
"It's not treachery nor rascality nor stupidity: it is just as at Ulm... it is..."--he seemed to be trying to find the right expression.
"It's all the fault of these fellows on the staff that there's this disorder," he muttered.
"It's ancient history," said another, guessing that it referred to a former war.
No, it's a sprain.
Prince Vasili mimicked the sobbing of Sergey Kuzmich and at the same time his eyes glanced toward his daughter, and while he laughed the expression on his face clearly said: "Yes... it's getting on, it will all be settled today."
It is good because it's definite and one is rid of the old tormenting doubt.
"It is too late now, it's done; besides I love her," thought Pierre.
But this one is too light, it's not becoming!
It's not as at Annette's * receptions where you always ran away; you remember cette chere Annette!
"Let her marry, it's all the same to me!" he screamed in the same piercing tone as when parting from his son.
Say it's only indigestion, say so, Mary!
"It's Andrew!" thought Princess Mary.
"It's a long time since we met," he said.
"It's all the same to me," he said.
It's one--let them sing!
Let us write her a letter at once, and she'll come here and all will be explained, or else, my dear boy, let me tell you it's quite likely you'll have to suffer for it.
It's really very curious.
It's well that the charitable Prussian ladies send us two pounds of coffee and some lint each month or we should be lost! he laughed.
"It's certainly well written," said Tushin, "but that's not the point, Vasili Dmitrich," and he also turned to Rostov.
"It seems it's no use knocking one's head against a wall!" he said, coming from the window and giving Rostov a large envelope.
It's a fine thing!
It's pleasant, your excellency!
He heard the sound of a scuffle and Sonya's disapproving voice: "It's past one o'clock."
"My dear," Princess Mary entering at such a moment would say, "little Nicholas can't go out today, it's very cold."
One can really say it's a wonderful voice!
But it's already ten.
"Say what you like," exclaimed Sonya, in a despairing voice as she looked at Natasha, "say what you like, it's still too long."
They do not even seem to see me, or if they do they look as if they were saying, 'Ah, she's not the one I'm after, so it's not worth looking at her!'
No, it's impossible, she thought.
Does it mean that it's the real thing?
"Ah, it's you!" said Pierre with a preoccupied, dissatisfied air.
I shall die, waiting a year: it's impossible, it's awful!
But you know, my dear boy, it's a pity you got excited!
It's a good day, eh?
It's not fair; you are going by yourself, are having the horses saddled and said nothing to us about it.
I knew you wouldn't be able to resist it and it's a good thing you're going.
No, it's impossible! thought Nicholas, still shouting with a hoarse voice.
Well, I am like any other dog as long as it's not a question of coursing.
You see it's damp weather, and you could rest, and the little countess could be driven home in a trap.
Not 'very good' it's simply delicious!
It's as if it were a dream!
"I think this used to be Natasha," thought Nicholas, "and that was Madame Schoss, but perhaps it's not, and this Circassian with the mustache I don't know, but I love her."
"Then it's all right?" said Nicholas, again scrutinizing the expression of his sister's face to see if she was in earnest.
"Nothing is trivial, and nothing is important, it's all the same--only to save oneself from it as best one can," thought Pierre.
Of course Prince Andrew is not a child and can shift without him, but it's not nice to enter a family against a father's will.
If you'll allow me to leave my Natasha in your hands for a quarter of an hour, Princess, I'll drive round to see Anna Semenovna, it's quite near in the Dogs' Square, and then I'll come back for her.
No one's to blame," said Natasha--"It's my fault.
It's 'Dolokhov the Persian' that does it!
I don't like it, it's just self-indulgence!
So it's all right.
It's our turn to begin.
I had heard that it happens like this, and you must have heard it too, but it's only now that I feel such love.
It's not the same as before.
It's not your business!
If you only knew... it's the devil knows what!
It's no joke, this plot you've hatched.
"Really it's no time for your stupid jokes," and he left the room.
It's the very devil!
It's no use pretending: you listen when I speak to you!
"It's lucky for him that he escaped me; but I'll find him!" she said in her rough voice.
It's true this engagement never was much to my liking.
It's a nasty country all the same.
Napoleon nodded condescendingly, as if to say, I know it's your duty to say that, but you don't believe it yourself.
She says it's very fine.
It's not the time for it now.
Never mind what it's for....
Well, Papa, I tell you definitely, and Mamma too, it's as you please, but I say definitely that you must let me enter the army, because I can't... that's all....
It's not here that men are needed.
It's not the soldiers only, but I've seen peasants today, too....
They say it's very strong, said Pierre.
Yes, it's a pleasant smell.
"On the contrary it's very interesting!" replied Pierre not quite truthfully.
Well, say your father has a German valet, and he is a splendid valet and satisfies your father's requirements better than you could, then it's all right to let him serve.
Ah, well, it's not for long! he added.
"It's time, Count; it's time!" cried the adjutant.
"It's time, Count; it's time!" cried the adjutant.
"Here it's tolerable," said he, "but with Bagration on the left flank they're getting it frightfully hot."
"No it's not that, but her action seems so jerky," said Pierre in a puzzled tone.
You'll see everything from there and it's less dangerous, and I'll come for you.
It's the business of us soldiers.
But in a gentleman it's wonderful!
If they've retired it's because there's work for them to do farther back.
"Pick him up, lift him, it's all the same!" cried someone.
Oh, it's a fresh broadsheet.
I expect it's nonsense....
"It's a complicated story, you know," said the adjutant.
We have a house of our own in Moscow, but it's a long way from here, and there's nobody living in it.
It's the government's business to look after the wounded; they know that.
It's only we who are such fools.
And it's such a beauty!
"If it's inconvenient, please don't," said Berg.
Do you know what it's about?
"It's because Papa wanted to give up all the carts to the wounded," said Petya.
It's abominable! she screamed.
"Mamma, it's impossible: see what is going on in the yard!" she cried.
No, Mamma darling, it's not the thing.
It's our intended that was--Prince Bolkonski himself!
Mamma, Sonya, look, it's he!
No, it's not he.
"Mamma," screamed Natasha, "I'll stake my head it's he!
"It's an awful time!" and dropping behind the carriage he stepped onto the pavement.
"But it's impossible..." declared the gentlemen of the suite, shrugging their shoulders but not venturing to utter the implied word--le ridicule...
"It's all very well for you, Ivan Sidorych, to talk," said the first tradesman angrily.
"It's not my business!" he exclaimed, and strode on quickly down one of the passages.
It's a fraud, lads!
Perhaps it's the state of affairs?
But that's not Mytishchi, it's farther away.
It's more to the left, why, Little Mytishchi is over there, and this is right on the other side.
"See how it's flaring," said one.
"It's a great pity," and he gazed straight before him, absently stroking his mustache with his fingers.
They've put two regiments as outposts, and they're having such a spree there, it's awful!
"It's good, quite good, thank you," said the Frenchman, in French, "but there must be some linen left over."
It's what the old folk used to say: 'A sweating hand's an open hand, a dry hand's close.'
You see it's burned down, and there's an end of it....
"Well, you know it's burned, so what's the use of talking?" said the major.
It's very important! said he to someone who had risen and was sniffing in the dark passage.
"There, they kept telling us: 'It's dangerous, it's dangerous,'" said the officer, addressing the esaul while Denisov was reading the dispatch.
What a wogue--it's just as I thought, said Denisov to the esaul.
It's all right my staying a day with you?
It's capital for us here, but what of him?
* Ah, it's you!
"But for you and me, old fellow, it's time to drop these amenities," continued Dolokhov, as if he found particular pleasure in speaking of this subject which irritated Denisov.
Besides I know myself, if I fall asleep it's finished.
It's in my ears.
But perhaps it's music of my own.
It's ready, your honor; you can split a Frenchman in half with it!
"It's getting light, it's really getting light!" he exclaimed.
It's well that I'm a musketeer... he sang, pretending to hiccough after each syllable.
"It's the steam that spoils them," he added, stretching out his feet toward the fire.
Yes, it's all very well, but when a man's feet are frozen how can he walk?
It's the only one worth remembering; but since that... it's only been tormenting folk.
It's the only one worth remembering; but since that... it's only been tormenting folk.
It's the real truth.
It's wonderful how they shine!
"It's a pleasure to talk to a man like that; he is not like our provincials," he would say.
"No, it's only the unexpectedness of it," thought Pierre.
But it's true that you remained in Moscow to kill Napoleon?
"It's not true, not true!" cried Pierre.
"I don't understand your why, Count," she continued, "but it's hard for me...
It is not beauty that endears, it's love that makes us see beauty.
It's time you two were parted, she added, looking smilingly at the little girl who clung to her father.
Yes, but it's a secret society and therefore a hostile and harmful one which can only cause harm.
No, it's not that.
Oh, it's time to go to him....
"It's okay," he said in a flippant tone.
It's all so... busy.
It's nice to meet you both.
You do realize that if it's a girl, we're going to be unevenly matched.
It's none of my business how you run this outfit.
It's almost as if it is a lifetime goal.
But I think it's important that we're both aware of what's going on, don't you?
It's not a decision or a wish any more.
You keep telling me it's in the past - until you can dig it back up and throw it in my face again.
It's the lessons we learned from the past.
I'm sorry, sweetheart, but at least for now, I think it's better that you're not involved.
It's just not my style.
"It's cold out there," he called after her.
But then, she admitted to loving him at one time, so it's not hard to believe she still felt something for him.
Sometimes, but it's a long way to a restaurant and a lot of hassle to go.
It's easier to simply fix something at home.
It's been almost a week and she hasn't been coughing today.
It's supposed to snow tonight.
Well, it's nice to know where I stand.
If it's something we simply can't afford, that's one thing, but we should be encouraging things like this, Alex.
Oh no; it's just Eureka, my kitten.
But don't let us worry over such things, Zeb; we can't help ourselves just now, you know, and I've always been told it's foolish to borrow trouble.
"I can't see that it's wrong," remarked Jim, in his gruff tones.
"It's wonderful!" said Dorothy.
It's a shaking of the earth.
"Why," cried Dorothy, in amazement, "it's Oz!"
It's the wonderful Wizard of Oz.
"It's better," replied Oz, promptly.
"It's violet," said the Wizard, who was in the buggy.
"Now it's blue," complained the horse.
"They are from the Island of Teenty-Weent," said the Wizard, "where everything is small because it's a small island.
But it's a place to stay, anyhow.
I've taken a look at this place, and it's no fit country for real creatures to go to.
"It's dangerous," growled Jim, in a stubborn tone.
It's every man's duty to do the best he knows how; and I'm going to do it.
"Why, it's a dragon!" he exclaimed.
"It is when it's not alive," acknowledged the girl.
"On my word," he exclaimed, "it's little Jellia Jamb--as pert and pretty as ever!"
"It's very strange," said the girl.
"Well, it's a bargain," said the boy; and he gave the whistle to Benjamin, and took the pennies.
It's only a penny whistle, and a poor one at that.
It's hard to know what later generations will deem to be art.
It's a pretty hopeless place to take a reader.
And it's about time.
It's only fair to the child, anyhow, and it saves you much unnecessary trouble.
"It's Baker's barn," cried one.
"It's nothing, nothing; leave me alone!" sobbed Sonya.
It's all the Club and his easygoing nature.
It's a burden to him, and Bory's life is only just beginning....
It's now two o'clock and you dine at four.
I could not have done it myself, I should not have had the courage, but it's splendid.
I suppose it's very interesting.
"It's all about the war," the count shouted down the table.
It's not a secret.
But it's not all the same to us!
It's not the same!
No, on my word it's not obstinacy!
"Well, it's as you like," said the staff captain.
It's a fine place!
It's a lovely place!
"It's because she was in love with that fat one in spectacles" (that was how Petya described his namesake, the new Count Bezukhov) "and now she's in love with that singer" (he meant Natasha's Italian singing master), "that's why she's ashamed!"
Of course, it's our house!
"No, but don't you think it's nice?" she kept repeating.
"There will be many toasts, it's time to begin," he whispered, and taking up his glass, he rose.
Don't you hear it's His Majesty the Emperor's health?
It's even certain that I should have done the same, then why this duel, this murder?
It's all the same....
But it's not that, my friend- said Dolokhov with a gasping voice.
No, it's only indigestion?...
But it's not his fault.
And it's not my fault either," he thought to himself, "I have done nothing wrong.
Supper, it's time for supper!
"Oh, it's terrible to feel oneself so in this man's power," thought Rostov.
"My cousin has nothing to do with this and it's not necessary to mention her!" he exclaimed fiercely.
It's your turn to sing the ba'cawolla--I entweat you!
All this misery, and money, and Dolokhov, and anger, and honor--it's all nonsense... but this is real....
It's all very well for you, said Natasha, with a responsive smile.
It's high time for you to be married, answered the countess sharply and sarcastically.
It is good for me, bad for another traveler, and for himself it's unavoidable, because he needs money for food; the man said an officer had once given him a thrashing for letting a private traveler have the courier horses.
"Your joke is too bad, it's witty but unjust," said Anna Pavlovna, shaking her little shriveled finger at him.
"It's impossible," replied another.
"My dear, really... it's better not to wake him... he's asleep," said the princess in a tone of entreaty.
Have just this moment received by special messenger very joyful news--if it's not false.
Have received another letter about the Preussisch-Eylau battle from Petenka--he took part in it--and it's all true.
"Yes, if you put it like that it's quite a different matter," said Prince Andrew.
It's all very well....
So it's you who's starving us to death!
If we're punished, it means that we have deserved it, it's not for us to judge.
It's hard, Count, hard to manage daughters in their mother's absence....
It's all vewy well--only not for those who get it in the neck.
Oh, but it's so...
This antibiotic seems to be working better than the previous one.
Why, it's a great deal for Uncle Hugson, but not for me.
It's this queer light that gives her that color.
It's enough to have your pedigree flung in your face by those saucy dragonettes.
In fact, it's likelier that kids of that day were forbidden by proper parents from hanging out at the Globe Theater.
It's the queerest thing I ever saw--a little bundle of fagots fastened together in the middle.
She likes stories that make her cry--I think we all do, it's so nice to feel sad when you've nothing particular to be sad about.
Let people think what they will of me, it's really all the same to me when my son's fate is at stake.
"It's as if a dam had burst," said the Cossack hopelessly.
"I should be glad enough to fall asleep, so it's not my fault!" and her voice quivered like that of a child about to cry.
That's how it's to be understood!
It's true that all you women are crybabies, remarked Petya, pacing the room with large, resolute strides.
It's not that I don't remember--I know what he is like, but not as I remember Nikolenka.
It's a lackey's job!
It's no use your going to the commander-in-chief.
"I expect it's snow... that spot... a spot--une tache," he thought.
It's wonderful what a lot of our troops have gathered, lads!
It's all those damned Germans' muddling!
"Lads, it's not the first village you've had to take," cried he.
It's time I knew the Imperial horses and Ilya Ivanych.
It's nearly ten o'clock, answered Natasha's voice.
"Mary Bogdanovna, I think it's beginning!" said Princess Mary looking at the midwife with wide-open eyes of alarm.
It's a sin to speak so.
It's death to go in.
It's no good making excuses now!
It's the real truth I'm telling you, I saw it myself.
It's no joke!
It's all very well if you're single.
"It's like this," he said thoughtfully, "if there's a battle soon, yours will win.
"It's all God's scourge," said Dron.
It's not a case of feeding horses--we may die of hunger ourselves!
But I guess if we have, it's no worse than having a child out of wedlock.
It's all up now! he was told in Russian, German, and Czech by the crowd of fugitives who understood what was happening as little as he did.
It's very nice, your excellency!
It's all sour grapes.
He's been clear enough about that, and yet it's being pushed on him.
It's from Mr. Boyle.
"It's plain that they have not all gone yet, Prince," said Bagration.
"It's not a big deal," Carmen said, and launched into another subject.