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Let lying dogs sleep is something I always say in reference to the Smiths.

Truth is a good dog; but always beware of barking too close to the heels of an error, lest you get your brains kicked out.

When you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas.

Lying is done with words and also with silence.

What does the truth matter? Haven't we mothers all given our sons a taste for lies, lies which from the cradle upwards lull them, reassure them, send them to sleep: lies as soft and warm as a breast!

I don't want any dog to be put down.

I'm constantly lying to my dog. He only responds to manipulation and blackmail.

A dog is a pitiful thing, depending wholly on companionship, and utterly lost except in packs or by the side of his master. Leave him alone, and he does not know what to do except bark and howl and trot about till sheer exhaustion forces him to sleep.

I have to tell them that last night was a shameful train wreck filled with blind cuddly puppies.