Romance Dear John Quotes

Dear John, tell me everything. Write it all down, that way, we'll be with each other all the time, even if we're not with each other at all. ~ Nicholas Sparks

And then the dear Lord will take us to the new earth, surrounded by the new Heaven, and the holy New Jerusalem will come down from God out of Heaven. Then we will have an end of pain and sorrow and crying and death. All these, thank God, will be forever done! And then God Himself will wipe away our tears. ~ John R. Rice

And what do you know, John's hands flew through the positions
of ASL in various l-got-this combinations.
"Is he deaf" the guy behind the cash register asked in a stage
whisper. As if someone using American Sign Language was some kind
of freak.
"No. Blind."
"Oh."
As the man kept staring, Qhuinn wanted to pop him. "You going
to help us out here or what?"
"Oh ... yeah. Hey, you got a tattoo on your face." Mr. Observant
moved slowly, like the bar codes on those bags were creating some kind of wind resistance under his laser reader. "Did you know that?"
Really. "I wouldn't know."
'Are you blind, too?"
No filter on this guy. None. "Yeah, I am."
"Oh, so that's why your eyes are all weird."
"Yeah. That's right."
Qhuinn took out a twenty and didn't wait for change-murder
was just a liiiiiittle too tempting. Nodding to John, who was also measuring the dear boy for a shroud, Qhuinn went to walk off.
"What about your change ?" the man called out.
"I'm deaf, too. I can't hear you."
The guy yelled more loudly, "I'll just keep it then, yeah?"
"Sounds good," Qhuinn shouted over his shoulder.
Idiot was stage-five stupid. Straight up. ~ J.R. Ward

Before I moved here, I never got the whole love-triangle thing. You know, in movies or romance novels or whatnot, where there's one chick that all the guys are drooling over, even though you can't see anything particularly special about her. But oh, no, they both must have her. And she's like, oh dear, however will I choose? William is so sensitive, he understands me, he swept me off my feet, oh misery, blubber, blubber, but how can I go on living without Rafe and his devil-may-care ways and his dark and only-a-little-abusive love? Upchuck. ~ Cynthia Hand

Oh, dear." She let her head fall back to the pillow. "There it went. I've fallen in love with you now."
"Just now?" Chuckling, he came to a sitting position, resting his forearm on one bent knee. "Well, thank God for belated blessings." He ran a hand
through his hair. "It's been coming on rather longer than that for me."
"What?" She sat bolt upright. "What can you mean? Since when?"
"From the first, Amelia. From the very first. ~ Tessa Dare

I suppose I should know better than to listen to gossip," she said, feeling a prick of remorse.
"Oh, some of it is true enough. I am a rake, my dear. You will just have to reform me."
"That is ridiculous! No one can reform another person. If you wish to change your way of life, you must do it yourself. ~ Elena Greene

You are such a drama llama!" she shouted at her mother.
The redhead blinked. "It's drama queen, dear."
"No, it's llama... ~ Katie Reus

Never was Shakespeare more wrong than when he had Cassius note, "The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars / But in ourselves." Easy enough to say when you're a Roman nobleman (or Shakespeare!), but there is no shortage of fault to be found amid our stars. While ~ John Green

I don't know about being a Catholic anymore, though I had a great romance with the Church. But its male hierarchy causes me pain and distress. So I can't really pay too much attention. When that encyclical from the Pope - the one about contraception - began 'Dear Sons and Brothers' I figured it must be private mail and had nothing to do with me. So I didn't read it. ~ Joan Hackett

Dear Mr. Peter Van Houten
(c/o Lidewij Vliegenthart),

My name is Hazel Grace Lancaster. My friend Augustus Waters, who read An Imperial Affliction at my recommendationtion, just received an email from you at this address. I hope you will not mind that Augustus shared that email with me.

Mr. Van Houten, I understand from your email to Augustus that you are not planning to publish any more books. In a way, I am disappointed, but I'm also relieved: I never have to worry whether your next book will live up to the magnificent perfection of the original. As a three-year survivor of Stage IV cancer, I can tell you that you got everything right in An Imperial Affliction. Or at least you got me right. Your book has a way of telling me what I'm feeling before I even feel it, and I've reread it dozens of times.

I wonder, though, if you would mind answering a couple questions I have about what happens after the end of the novel. I understand the book ends because Anna dies or becomes too ill to continue writing it, but I would really like to mom-wether she married the Dutch Tulip Man, whether she ever has another child, and whether she stays at 917 W. Temple etc. Also, is the Dutch Tulip Man a fraud or does he really love them? What happens to Anna's friends-particularly Claire and Jake? Do they stay that this is the kind of deep and thoughtful question you always hoped your readers would ask-what becomes of Sisyphus the Hamster? These questio ~ John Green

Dear friends, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to determine if they are from God. 1 John 4:1 ~ Beth Moore

Feelings trap us in the self, Tony dear. Doing a thing because you feel wonderful about it - even a work of charity - is in the end a selfish act. We perform the work not to feel wonderful but to know and love the other. It's the same with your romance. You may not feel your love, but God is still your loved one, your other. ~ Tony Hendra

Dear Park, I like you so much. You have really beautiful cheeks. ~ Rainbow Rowell

There are too many fault lines to count now. ~ Nicholas Sparks

When Christians unto carnal men give ear, Out of their way they go, and pay for 't dear; For Master Worldly Wiseman can but shew A saint the way to bondage and to woe. ~ John Bunyan

- and I say you still haven't answered my question, Father Bleu."
"Haven't I, dear lady? I thought I stated that death is merely the beginning of - "
"No, no, no!" Her voice was as high as a harpy's. "Don't go all gooey and metaphysical. I mean to ask, what is death the act, the situation, the moment?"
She watched him foxily. The priest in turn struggled to remain polite. "Madame, I'm not positive I follow."
"Let me say it another way. Most people are afraid of dying, yes?"
"I disagree. Not those who find mystical union with the body of Christ in - "
"Oh, come off it!" Madame Kagle shrilled. "People are frightened of it, Father Bleu. Frightened and screaming their fear silently every hour of every day they live. Now I put it to you. Of what are they afraid? Are they afraid of the end of consciousness? The ultimate blackout, so to speak? Or are they afraid of another aspect of death? The one which they can't begin to foresee or understand?"
"What aspect is that, Madame Kagle?"
"The pain." She glared. "The pain, Father. Possibly sudden. Possibly horrible. Waiting, always waiting somewhere ahead, at an unguessable junction of time and place. Like that bootboy tonight. How it must have hurt. One blinding instant when his head hit, eh? I suggest, Father Bleu, that is what we're afraid of, that is the wholly unknowable part of dying - the screaming, hurting how, of which the when is only a lesser part. The how is the part we never know. Unle ~ John Jakes

John Farrar, my dear friend and songwriter/producer of most of my hits (he wrote "You're The One That I Want" and "Hopelessly Devoted to You," among others), wrote the song ["I Think You Might Like It"] and it captures so much fun and joy! Having that reunion as well, with John and John - made the project even more special! ~ Olivia Newton-John

O lovely lily clean, O lily springing green, O lily bursting white, Dear lily of delight, Spring in my heart agen That I may flower to men. ~ John Masefield

Dear Aster,
One fine morning, I will get up to notice my face in wrinkles and furrows. My hair will be scattered all over the pillow; most of them will be grey without a doubt. The spring of youth will have made way for my final years, and I'll no longer be able to walk swiftly. My voice will tremble as a result of impairment; it will get hard for me to read words and things will get no better until I close my eyes forever.
I'll spend every minute terrorized, unwilling to end this beautiful journey of being in this world. However, I'll cheerfully accept this truth of life, if you hold my hand, and promise to walk with me, until we breathe. Because no matter how ugly both of us look seventy years or a million years from now, I'll take you in my arms with the same devotion that I'll do it for the very first time.
Charlie. ~ Keshav Aneel

Yes, dear Father. But has it ever occurred to you that by controlling [your feelings] you destroy them? How many times can we say sorry before we don't feel sorry anymore? ~ John Le Carre

She couldn't take her eyes from the dancing flame. No, this was so wrong. Candles should be used for meditation ... for romance. Or on a birthday cake at least.
So where was the cake? The present? The song? As he stepped closer to her - as the damned flame got way too close - she started singing. "Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me ... " Marcus paused, looking at her in disbelief. See. I knew he didn't have a sense of humor. "Happy birthday, dear Gabi" - she lifted her head and blew out the candle - "happy birthday to me. ~ Cherise Sinclair

A rich rogue nowadays is fit company for any gentleman; and the world, my dear, hath not such a contempt for roguery as you imagine. ~ John Gay

Look to it, my dear friends, that none of you be found Christless at your appearance before him. Those that continue Christless now, will be left speechless then. God forbid that you that have heard so much of Christ, and you that have professed so much of Christ, should at last fall into a worse condition than those that never heard the name of Christ. ~ John Flavel

Don't worry, dear. Love will find when you least expect it. ~ Vidhi Mohan

No matter where it is in the sky ... No matter where you are in the world ... the moon is never bigger than your thumb. -John ~ Nicholas Sparks

Friends and family arrived at the church: Becky and Connell, my two lifelong friends and bridesmaids. Marlboro Man's cousins and college friends. And Mike. My dear brother Mike, who hugged everyone who entered the church, from the little old ladies to the strapping former college football players. And just as I was greeting my Uncle John, I saw Mike go in for the kill as Tony, Marlboro Man's good college friend, entered the door.
"Wh-wh-wh-what is you name?" Mike's thundering voice echoed through the church.
"Hi, I'm Tony," Marlboro Man's friend said, extending his hand.
"It's n-n-n-nice to meet you, Tony," Mike shouted back, not letting go of Tony's hand.
"Nice to meet you too, Mike," Tony said, likely wondering when he would get his hand back.
"You so handsome," Mike said.
Oh, Lord. Please, no, I thought.
"Why…thank you, Mike," Tony replied, smiling uncomfortably. If it hadn't been my wedding rehearsal, I might have popped some popcorn, sat back, and enjoyed the show. But I just couldn't watch. Mike's affection had never been any respecter of persons. ~ Ree Drummond

Above all the studies in the world, study your own hearts; waste not a minute more of your precious time about frivolous & unsubstantial controversies. My dear flock, I have, according to the grace given me, labored in the course of my ministry among you, to feed you with the heart strengthening bread of practical doctrine, and I do assure you, it is far better you should have the sweet and saving impressions of gospel truths, feelingly and powerfully conveyed to your hearts, than only to understand them by a bare ratiocination, or a dry syllogistical inference. Leave trifling studies to such as have time lying on their hands and know not how to employ it. Remember you are at the door of eternity, and have other work to do. Those hours you spend upon heart-work in your closets, are the golden spots of all your time and will have the sweetest influence up to your last hour. ~ John Flavel

what is a journey
without someone who wanders
if sometimes a pair
is made of two ~ Lori Jenessa Nelson

The Reverend John Knox Meredith, Mrs. Dr. dear," said Susan, resolved not to let Miss Cornelia tell all the news. "Is ~ L.M. Montgomery

Dear Lord ... shine through me, and be so in me that every soul I come in contact with may feel Your presence in my soul ... Let me thus praise You in the way You love best, by shining on those around me. ~ John Henry Newman

What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones,
The labor of an age in pilèd stones,
Or that his hallowed relics should be hid
Under a star-y-pointing pyramid?
Dear son of memory, great heir of fame,
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name? ~ John Milton

Alas! dear Joy, the merriest, is dead. But I have wed Peace ; and our babe, a boy, New-born, is Joy. ~ John B. Tabb

Everything I've read about Christians in prison for their non-violent witness to Christ rings true. Whether it's St. Paul, St. Edmund Campion, Dorothy Day or Dr. King, the experience remains the same: God comes close to those in prison. God's spirit is unleashed on the person who suffers imprisonment in a spirit of obedient love. God is a God of prisoners, a God of the poor, a God of the oppressed
but most of all, as the life of Jesus testifies, a God of nonviolent resisters. God is a God of nonviolence and peace. ~ John Dear

My dear doctor, I am surprised to hear you say that I am coughing very badly, as I have been practising all night. ~ John Philpot Curran

I got the pilot for 'Scrubs' sent to me, and in the margin for Dr. Cox, it said 'a John McGinley type.' So when I went in to audition, I said to Billy Lawrence, who's a dear friend of mine, I said, 'Well, I'm John McGinley.' ~ John C. McGinley

Jaime, dear, forgive me, but I don't think you are man enough to take care of my Cass. She's a special kind of difficult. ~ Mercy Celeste

The stench of the pigpens made him take shallow breaths. Michael desperately wanted another drink to drown his sorrows…or, more aptly, his angers. He promised himself that once he found the source of the problem, he'd head to Rigsby's and let alcohol smooth the edge off his ire. Maybe with a few drinks in him, he could better handle Prudence. Nothing else I've tried has worked.
"Michael!"
At the sound of his wife's voice, he stiffened. Speak of the devil. Is there a word for female devil? He couldn't think of one. He nodded good-bye to Hong and was stepping away when---
"Michael, I want to talk to you!" Her voice rose until the timbre was almost a shriek. She ploughed pell-mell for him, her face red with anger.
Hong ducked into his tent. Out of sight, maybe, but not out of earshot.
The Guans' should stuff cotton in their ears to block out the worst of Prudence's screeches.
"I need a drink," he said, beginning to turn away.
"Oh, dear Lord. Don't tell me you're a drunkard like that Obadiah Kettering. Is that another thing you omitted to tell me about your character?"
He swung back.
She was inches away, arms flung wide.
"You omitted telling me I'd be marrying a shrew," he said. "You should have written the word at the top of your fancy stationary in big block letters." He sketched the word in the air and stated each letter. "S-H-R-E-W."
"Why…why I never!" Her mouth opened and closed as if she sought just the right words to h ~ Debra Holland

You remarked once in a fit of pique you had made me famous. You were wrong, my dear. You have made me. ~ T.D. McKinney