Oh

OH: "We should just burn the whole place down"

Oh! I didn't see you there.

Oh, wow! That's amazing.

Oh, so that's how it works.

Oh, leave me alone.

Oh, and don't forget your coat.

What if he says "Oh, I need to see your ID"?

Oh baby, baby, how was I supposed to know / That something wasn't right here?

Oh, when will it end?

And oh how stingingly acute, and pungently grievous and tormentive, are the remembrancing Reflections of a separate uncloathed Soul in the other World, upon a review of its mad Choice, foolish Hopes, fruitless Desires […]

Oh, by what plots, by what forswearings, betrayings, oppressions, imprisonments, tortures, poisonings, and under what reasons of state and politic subtilty, have these forenamed kings […] pulled the vengeance of God upon themselves […]

Oh! That hurt.

"Oh! . . . oh! . . . I can't bear it . . . It is too much . . . I die . . . I am going . . ." were Polly's expressions of extasy

I'm off with the raggle-taggle gypsy-oh.

"You should watch where you're going!" "Oh?"

There were ohs and ahs, and the people twisted about as they looked for her. Then they began to applaud.

A quarter of an hour elapsed, and then, after several rings at the door-bell, a smothered laugh, and a good deal of ohing and ahing, the door was thrown open, and one by one, as they were announced, in came the expected characters.

One genuine recycled local glass of aitch-two-oh

Exes and Ohs: A Downtown Girl's (Mostly Awkward) Tales of Love, Lust, Revenge, and a Little Facebook Stalking

Jenny I've got your number. I need to make you mine. Jenny don't change your number. Eight six seven five three oh nine. Eight six seven five three oh nine. Eight six seven five three oh nine. Eight six seven five three oh nine. Tommy Tutone, "867-5309/Jenny"

"Oh-dark-thirty," the first soldier muttered without looking at his watch.

“Your son’s name. What is it?” “Oh. Benjamin Oh.” “Benjamin O … what?” “No, Oh, Officer. That’s it. The last name is Oh.”