Sweetest Day Greeting Quotes

You are brighter than the sun, prettier than a fresh flower, and sweeter than any chocolate. Your songs are always humming in my heart. I wish you a sweet sweetest day. ~ Debasish Mridha

On October 14th, the sweetest thing happened to me. On that day at sunset, I met you by the sea. It was that day I found a great purpose and a wonderful reason to be. ~ Debasish Mridha

Nor could I fail to recall my friendship with Howard K. Beale, professor of American History at the University of North Carolina. There he was, one day in 1940, standing just outside my room in the men's dormitory at St. Augustine's, in his chesterfield topcoat, white silk scarf, and bowler hat, with his calling card in hand, perhaps looking for a silver tray in which to drop it. Paul Buck, whom he knew at Harvard, had told him to look me up. He wanted to invite me to his home in Chapel Hill to have lunch or dinner and to meet his family. From that point on we saw each other regularly.
After I moved to Durham, he invited me each year to give a lecture on "The Negro in American Social Thought" in one of his classes. One day when I was en route to Beale's class, I encountered one of his colleagues, who greeted me and inquired where I was going. I returned the greeting and told him that I was going to Howard Beale's class to give a lecture. After I began the lecture I noticed that Howard was called out of the class. He returned shortly, and I did not give it another thought. Some years later, after we both had left North Carolina, Howard told me that he had been called out to answer a long-distance phone call from a trustee of the university who had heard that a Negro was lecturing in his class. The trustee ordered Beale to remove me immediately. In recounting this story, Beale told me that he had said that he was not in the habit of letting trustees plan his courses, and h ~ John Hope Franklin

This is what you do on your very first day in Paris. You get yourself, not a drizzle, but some honest-to-goodness rain, and you find yourself someone really nice and drive her through the Bois de Boulogne in a taxi. The rain's very important. That's when Paris smells its sweetest. It's the damp chestnut trees. ~ Audrey Hepburn

Koran says whoever believes in God in the last day shall be saved. It is a religion whose very name, Islam, comes from the word Shalom, which means peace. It's about establishing peace. We greet each other with peace be upon you, which the Jews do in greeting each other. ~ Feisal Abdul Rauf

There's no way to tell him, if she tried she knows she'd only start crying, that there's this girl in England who's never met him and never will and he's saved her life more times over than he'll ever know, because she knows Blackbindings - Blackbindings who writes like an angel, like she knows what suffering is and she knows how much knowing that matters, who writes so far beyond her years with the sort of control Draxie knows she'll never have - Blackbindings who is so shy she can barely bring herself to reblog anything, Blackbindings who just has one of the sweetest, quietest, kindest souls Draxie thinks she's ever known and the sort of brain chemistry that you fight every day of your life, she doesn't know if Blackbindings would still be here if it wasn't for him. If she was trapped in this world that breaks her heart and breaks her down, she doesn't know how long that girl would have lasted if she didn't think about him being brave for everyone else, caring about everyone else, maybe caring about her, trapped in her own mind an ocean away, using up all the strength she has just to not hurt herself. There are weeks when she cries every single day. And thinks about him, she says. And then she can make herself breathe. ~ Rainjoy

The world was a glorious place this morning. The birds were particularly noisy in their greeting to the day. The sky was a cloudless blue, the color of delphiniums.
He'd never before equated the color of the sky to a flower.
This morning he would show Ellice some of the rare volumes in the Forster collection. He hoped she would be impressed at the illuminated scrolls or the Bible he suspected was one of the first Gutenberg volumes. Would she be interested in the Latin poetry he'd found? One of his ancestors had evidently collected erotic poetry. ~ Karen Ranney

Morning is the best part of the day for walking. The air is freshest then, the earth sweetest. The flowers preen themselves after their bath of dew, and stand erect with rare self-assurance, proud of their bright clean colours. The birds are happiest in the morning, and most lively then. They dart across the path before you, wheel and soar above the trees, swoop unerringly to their nests. They chatter and chirrup and sing in unending chorus, blithely contented and gay, and so very very glad to be alive. ~ Alfred Wainwright

In one of Ralph Connor's books he tells a story of Gwen. Gwen was a wild, wilful lassie and one who had always been accustomed to having her own way. Then one day she met with a terrible accident which crippled her for life. She became very rebellious and in the murmuring state she was visited by the Sky Pilot, as the missionary among the mountaineers was termed. He told her the parable of the canyon.

"At first there were no canyons, but only the broad, open prairie. One day the Master of the Prairie, walking over his great lawns, where were only grasses, asked the Prairie, 'Where are your flowers?' and the Prairie said, 'Master I have no seeds.'

"Then he spoke to the birds, and they carried seeds of every kind of flower and strewed them far and wide, and soon the prairie bloomed with crocuses and roses and buffalo beans and the yellow crowfoot and the wild sunflowers and the red lilies all summer long. Then the Master came and was well pleased; but he missed the flowers he loved best of all, and he said to the Prairie: 'Where are the clematis and the columbine, the sweet violets and wind-flowers, and all the ferns and flowering shrubs?'

"And again he spoke to the birds, and again they carried all the seeds and scattered them far and wide. But, again, when the Master came he could not find the flowers he loved best of all, and he said: "'Where are those my sweetest flowers?' and the Prairie cried sorrowfully: "'Oh, Master, I cannot keep the f ~ Ralph Connor

He said it without greeting, as if they had parted the day before. Because it took her a moment to regain the art of breathing, she realized for the first time how much that voice meant to her. ~ Ayn Rand

Seek to be made holier every day; pray, strive, wrestle for the spirit, to make you like God. Be as much you can with God. I declare to you that I had rather be one hour with God than a thousand with the sweetest society on earth or in Heaven. All other joys are but streams; God is the fountain. ~ Robert Murray M'Cheyne

Welcome!
Smile, and the day will smile with you. ~ Anthony T. Hincks

Her kitsch was the image of home, all peace, quiet, and harmony, and ruled by a loving mother and a wise father. It was an image that took shape in her after the death of her parents. The less her life resembled the sweetest of dreams, the more sensitive she was to its magic, and more than once she shed tears when the ungrateful daughter in a sentimental film embraced the neglected father as the windows of the happy family's house shone out into the dying day. ~ Milan Kundera

She thought she loved him. What do you have in your pocket?"
He smiled, drew out the gray button that had fallen off her very ugly suit the first day they'd met.
"See?" She couldn't say why that stupid button moved her so damn much. "People in love keep things. Sentimental things."
"What do you have?"
She pulled the chain, and the tear-shaped diamond from under her shirt. "I wouldn't wear this for anybody but you. It's embarrassing. And - "
"Ah, something else."
"Shit. I'm tired. It makes me gabby. I have one of your shirts."
His brow creased in absolute bafflement. "My shirts?"
"In my drawer, under a bunch of stuff. You lent it to me the morning after our first night together. It still sort of smells like you."
For a moment, the worry on his face simply dissolved. "I believe that's the sweetest thing you've said to me in all our time together."
"Well, I owed you. Besides, you have enough shirts to outfit a Broadway troupe. So, help me toss the room?"
"Absolutely. ~ J.D. Robb

Blessed are thoseto whom Easter is not a hunt ...
but a find;
not a greeting ...
but a proclamation;
not an outward fashion ...
but inward grace;
not a day ...
but an eternity. ~ Anderson Luis De Abreu Oliveira

CLEOPATRA: My salad days,
When I was green in judgment: cold in blood,
To say as I said then! But, come, away;
Get me ink and paper:
He shall have every day a several greeting,
Or I'll unpeople Egypt. ~ William Shakespeare

[My novel] took up the sweetest part of my mind and the rarest part of my imagination; it was like being in love and better. All day long when I was busy [ ... ], I had my unfinished novel personified almost as a secret companion and accomplice following me like a shadow wherever I went, whatever I did. ~ Muriel Spark

sharing a strong, five-second greeting each day with your spouse can become a long-term blessing to your relationship. Your greeting should say, "You are priceless to me," rather ~ Alex Kendrick

Mounting toward the upland again, I pause reverently, as the hush and stillness of twilight come upon the woods. It is the sweetest, ripest hour of the day. And as the hermit's evening hymn goes up from the deep solitude below me, I experience that serene exaltation of sentiment of which music, literature, and religion are but the faint types and symbols. ~ John Burroughs

Have you not yet seen, or not been introduced to ma tante? Anna Pavlovna said to her guests as they arrived, and very seriously she led them up to a little old lady wearing tall bows, who had sailed in out of the next room as soon as the guests began to arrive. Anna Pavlovna mentioned their names, deliberately turning her eyes from the guest to ma tante, and then withdrew. All the guests performed the ceremony of greeting the aunt, who was unknown, uninteresting and unnecessary to every one. Anna Pavlovna with mournful, solemn sympathy, followed these greetings, silently approving them. Ma tante said to each person the same words about his health, her own health, and the health of her majesty, who was, thank God, better to-day. Every one, though from politeness showing no undue haste, moved away from the old lady with a sense of relief at a tiresome duty accomplished, and did not approach her again all the evening. ~ Leo Tolstoy

Be true to Love.
Do not betray Her.
Then, on the day
that the forest of the mind
bursts into flames,
you will not run.
You will remain silent and still;
for this is when Love bears
Her sweetest fruit:
untouched Presence. ~ Mooji

There are all kinds of ways and reasons that mothers can and should be praised. But for cultivating a sense of invisibility, martyrdom and tirelessly working unnoticed and unsung? Those are not reasons. Praising women for standing in the shadows? Wrong. Where is the greeting card that praises the kinds of mothers I know? Or better yet, the kind of mother I was raised by? I need a card that says: "Happy Mother's Day to the mom who taught me to be strong, to be powerful, to be independent, to be competitive, to be fiercely myself and fight for what I want." Or "Happy Birthday to a mother who taught me to argue when necessary, to raise my voice for my beliefs, to not back down when I know I am right." Or "Mom, thanks for teaching me to kick ass and take names at work. Get well soon." Or simply "Thank you, Mom, for teaching me how to make money and feel good about doing it. Merry Christmas. ~ Shonda Rhimes

Isn't it fun to work - or don't you ever do it? It's especially fun when your kind of work is the thing you'd rather do more than anything else in the world. I've been writing as fast as my pen would go every day this summer, and my only quarrel with life is that the days aren't long enough to write all the beautiful and valuable and entertaining thoughts I'm thinking. I've finished the second draft of my book and am going to begin the third tomorrow morning at half-past seven. It's the sweetest book you ever saw - it is, truly. I think of nothing else. I can barely wait in the morning to dress and eat before beginning; then I write and write and write till suddenly I'm so tired that I'm limp all over. ~ Jean Webster

A tall, well-muscled blond man drew alongside Christian. He inclined his head to them. "Abbot," he said to Christian in greeting.
Christian seemed pleased to see him. "Falcon. It's been a long time."
"Aye. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to greet you yester eve when you arrived."
Christian offered him a lopsided grin. "'Tis well understood. I heard about your escapade with the butcher's daughter and your near miss with her father's cleaver."
Falcon laughed. "Lies all. 'Twas the tanner's daughter and her father's ax."
Christian joined his laughter. "One day, my friend, you will meet the one father who can run faster than you."
"'Tis why God gave us horses." He winked at Christian, then tilted his head so that he could see Adara. "'Tis a pleasure to meet you, Queen Adara. I am Lord Quentin of Adelsbury and my sword is ever at your disposal."
Christian gave him a meaningful stare. "And your sword had best stay sheathed, Falcon, until you're on the battlefield."
"Your warning is well taken into consideration, Abbot, along with your sword skill and horsemanship. Have no fear of me. Your wife is ever safe from my designs. But no woman is safe from my charm."
Adara couldn't help teasing the man who seemed of remarkable good spirit and cheer. "However some women might find themselves immune from it, my Lord Falcon."
"What, ho?" he said with a laugh. "Congratulations, Christian. You have found a woman as intelligent as she is ~ Kinley MacGregor

The difference
between being loved and being fucked
is I can't remember how the first feels.
I come to bed quiet, kiss with my eyes closed,
hate how easily I touch you.
Find me the sweetest boy, with a heart
more hopeful than spun sugar on a hot day,
I will teach him the meaning of meaningless
nights. The whole time, every moment, wishing
he'd crack me open, rib by rib, to see
how I work. How I bleed. ~ Clementine Von Radics

It's this or a short hospital stay," she said, greeting Scarlett with a raised glass of a deep red liquid with a celery stalk sticking out of the top. "Bloody Marys are one of the truly medicinal cocktails. The only way I can beat this jet lag is by staying up all day, and this is going to keep me alive. And who is this?"
This was directed at Marlene, who was stalking along behind Scarlett like a wet cat. ~ Maureen Johnson

Anney makes the best gravy in the county, the sweetest biscuits, and puts just enough vinegar in those greens. Glenn nodded, though the truth was he'd never had much of a taste for greens, and his well-educated mama had always told him that gravy was bad for the heart. So he was not ready for the moment when Mama pushed her short blond hair back and set that big plate of hot food down in front of his open hands. Glenn took a bite of gristly meat and gravy, and it melted between his teeth. The greens were salt sweet and fat rich. His tongue sang to his throat; his neck went loose, and his hair fell across his face. It was like sex, that food, too good to waste on the middle of the day and a roomful of men too tired to taste. He chewed, swallowed began to come alive himself. He began to feel for the first time like one of the boys, a grown man accepted by the notorious and dangerous Earle Boatwright, staring across the counter at one of the prettiest woman he'd ever seen. His face went hot, and he took a big drink of ice tea to cool himself. ~ Dorothy Allison

Valentine's Day was created by the greeting card industry to get pussy. ~ Anthony Jeselnik

The greatest inspiration, the most sublime ideas of living that have come down to humanity come from a higher realm, a happier realm, a place of pure dreams, a heaven of blessed notions. Ideas and infinite possibilities dwell there in absolute tranquility.
Before these ideas came to us they were pure, they were silent, and their life-giving possibilities were splendid. But when they come to our earthly realm they acquire weight and words. They become less.
The sweetest notions, ideas of universal love and justice, love for one another, or intuitions of joyful creation, these are all perfect in their heavenly existences. Any artist will tell you that ideas are happier in the heaven of their conception than on the earth of their realization. We should return to pure contemplation, to sweet meditation, to the peace of silent loving, the serenity of deep faith, to the stillness of deep waters. We should sit still in our deep selves and dream good new things for humanity. We should try and make those dreams real. We should keep trying to raise higher the conditions and possibilities of this world. Then maybe one day, after much striving, we might well begin to create a world justice and a new light on this earth that could inspire a ten-second silence of wonder – even in heaven. ~ Ben Okri

According to St. Bonaventure, all the angels in heaven unceasingly call out to her: "Holy, holy, holy Mary, Virgin Mother of God." They greet her countless times each day with the angelic greeting, "Hail, Mary", while prostrating themselves before her, begging her as a favour to honour them with one of her requests. According to St. Augustine, even St. Michael, though prince of all the heavenly court, is the most eager of all the angels to honour her and lead others to honour her. At all times he awaits the privilege of going at her word to the aid of one of her servants. ~ Louis De Montfort

There's an upside to passengers too. A guy around 50, always travels on the first train of the day, always used to greet me, he probably thought I'd died until I returned to the job. Yesterday morning when we met, he said: "Alive and well means you've still got things to do. Don't give up the fight!" It's such an encouragement just to get a cheerful greeting. Nothing comes of hatred. ~ Haruki Murakami

And, indeed it is a very pleasant thing for to ride forth in the dawning of a Springtime day. For then the little birds do sing their sweetest song, all joining in one joyous medley, whereof one may scarce tell one note from another, so multitudinous is that pretty roundelay; then do the growing things of the earth smell the sweetest in the freshness of the early daytime - the fair flowers, the shrubs, and the blossoms upon the trees; then doth the dew bespangle all the sward as with an incredible multitude of jewels of various colors; then is all the world sweet and clean and new, as though it had been fresh created for him who came to roam abroad so early in the morning. ~ Howard Pyle

Captain West advanced to meet me, and before our outstretched hands touched, before his face broke from repose to greeting and the lips moved to speech, I got the first astonishing impact of his personality. Long, lean, in his face a touch of race I as yet could only sense, he was as cool as the day was cold, as poised as a king or emperor, as remote as the farthest fixed star, as neutral as a proposition of Euclid. And then, just ere our hands met, a twinkle of
oh
such distant and controlled geniality quickened the many tiny wrinkles in the corner of the eyes; the clear blue of the eyes was suffused by an almost colourful warmth; the face, too, seemed similarly to suffuse; the thin lips, harsh-set the instant before, were as gracious as Bernhardt's when she moulds sound into speech. ~ Jack London

He was a dark and stormy knight. A latter-day rake with eyes the color of emeralds worth a queen's ransom. His smile promised voyages to the moon. And heaven alone knew how many females lay littered in his wake.

To a rousing burst of Rachmaninoff, he swept into my London flat one January evening and, with the hauteur of his greeting, captured my virgin heart forever and a day.

'Miss Ellie Simons? My car awaits. Shall we splurge on dinner or parking tickets? ~ Dorothy Cannell

Hey mister, where you goin' in such a hurry? Don't you think it's time you realize There's a whole lot more to life than work and worry All the sweetest things in life are free And they're right before your eyes? You've got to stop and smell the roses You've got to count your many blessings every day You're gonna find your way to heaven is a rough and rocky road If you don't stop and smell the roses along the way ~ Mac Davis

There was nothing like an extra helping of guilt to cool a man's blood.And it was guilt as much as the hot food and the glass of good wine that got Brian through the evening in the Grant kitchen. The size of it left little room for lust, considering.
There was Adelia Grant giving him a warm greeting as if he was welcome to swing in for dinner anytime he had the whim, and Travis getting out an extra plate himself-as if he waited on employees five days a week-and saying that there was plenty to go around as Brendon had other plans for dinner.
Before he knew it, he was sitting down, having food heaped in front of him and being asked how his day had been.And not in a way that expected a report.
He didn't know what to do about it. He liked these people, genuinely liked them. And there he was lusting after their daughter. An alley mutt after a registered purebred. ~ Nora Roberts

Frey winced. "Hello, Sumarbrander. I didn't mean to ignore you."
"Yeah, yeah. Well, Magnus here is going to get Bragi to write an epic poem about me!"
"Frey raised an eyebrow. "You are?"
"Uh -"
"That's right!" Jack huffed. "Frey never got Bragi to write an epic poem about me! The only thing he ever gave me was a stupid Hallmark Sword's Day card."
Added to my mental notes: there was such a thing as Sword's Day. I silently cursed the greeting-card industry. ~ Rick Riordan

The best fathers have the softest, sweetest hearts. In other words, great dads are real marshmallows. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

The love-making of the bluebird is as beautiful as the bird itself, and normally as gentle, unless interrupted by some jealous rival who would steal his bride; then gentleness gives place to active combat. The male usually arrives a few days ahead of the female, selects what he considers to be a suitable summer home, and carols his sweetest, most seductive notes day after day until she appears in answer to his call. ~ Arthur Cleveland Bent