Veterans Day Thank You Quotes

Today is Veterans Day. Thank you to all our men and women who have served the United States armed forces. In honor of Veterans Day we are marching out a few jokes that have already served. ~ David Letterman

But this Veterans Day, I believe we should do more than sing the praises of the bravery and patriotism that our veterans have embodied in the past. We should take this opportunity to re-evaluate how we are treating our veterans in the present. ~ Nick Lampson

He had one of those chins what…" One of the innkeeper's hands went up to squeeze his chin into two little folds. "…a chin what looks like an arse."
"A chin dimple? A cleft?"
"Not cleft so much as dented, Mr. Eversea. And blue eyes. Went nicely with his costume."
Dumbstruck silence followed this observation.
The innkeeper sighed. "It's me wife. If ye gets yerself a wife one day, Mr. Eversea, ye'll come ou' wi' things like that, too, mark my words, mark my words. 'This matches wi' that or with this,' and so on. They talk like that, women do. She makes me look a' things and give opinions. She'll turn me into a girl yet."
This seemed unlikely, but all Colin said was, "Blue eyes and an arse chin. Thank you, that's very helpful, Mr. Croker. ~ Julie Anne Long

Looks like you've been busy," he said as he set down the pail to survey the room.
"You found water!"
"There was a stream close by." His gaze fixed on what she held in her hand. "I see you found my brandy."
Refusing to be embarrassed, she walked over to hand the flask to him. "I did indeed." She shot him a mischievous glance as he drank some. "Who would guess that the estimable Mr. Pinter, so high in the instep, drinks strong spirits?"
He scowled at her. "A little brandy on a cold day never hurt anyone. And I'm not high in the instep."
"Oh? Didn't you tell Gabe only last week that most lords were only good for redistributing funds from their estates into all the gaming hells and brothels in London, and ignoring their duty to God and country?"
When he flushed, she felt a twinge of conscience, but only a twinge. He looked so charming when he was flustered.
"I wasn't implying that your family…"
"It's all right," she said, taking pity on him. He had saved her life, after all. "You have good reason to be high in the instep. And you're not far wrong, in any case-there are many lords who are a blight upon society."
He was quiet a long moment. "I hope you realize that I don't think that of your brothers. Or your brother-in-law. They're fine men."
"Thank you."
Removing his surtout, he walked over to hang it on top of her cloak, then stood there warming his hands at the fire. "I wish I could say the same about your cousins. ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Someone else was approaching, and Jackson was none too happy about it. He hadn't seen Devonmont since the house party and wouldn't mind never seeing the man again, but since Devonmont was his new sister-in-law's cousin, that was unlikely.
As the man neared them, Celia cast Jackson an assessing glance. "You do know he never meant a thing to me."
"That makes me only slightly less inclined to smash his face in."
"Jackson!" she said laughingly. "You would never do any such thing."
"Try me." He glanced at her. "Don't let this sober façade fool you, sweeting. When it comes to you, I can be as jealous as the next man."
"Well, you have no reason." She leaned up to kiss his cheek and whisper, "You're the only man I'll ever love."
He was still reveling in that remark when Devonmont reached them. "I take it this would not be a good time for me to kiss the bride?" he drawled.
Jackson glared at him.
"That's what I thought," Devonmont said, laughing. "But seriously, Pinter, you're a very lucky man."
"How well I know it," Jackson said.
"And I say most sincerely that your wife is a very lucky woman as well."
Jackson was taken aback. "Thank you, sir," he managed.
After Devonmont nodded and walked away, Celia said, "Surely that softens you toward him a little."
"Perhaps," Jackson conceded. "Though it's a good thing Lyons isn't here. I don't think I could be civil to both in one day. ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Thank you."
She met his eyes with surprise. "For what?"
"For seeing past my hardened, sinful exterior to the man underneath. For loving me despite my many faults."
"You have no faults, not in my eyes."
"I do, but it kind of you to overlook them."
"As you overlook mine."
"Now, there we disagree, since you are perfection itself," he said. "You are everything that is good and generous and kind, and I thank my lucky stars each and every day that you came into my life. Thank you for saving me, Esme. Without you, I would never have known real happiness. ~ Tracy Anne Warren

I find that the more willing I am to be grateful for the small things in life, the bigger stuff just seems to show up from unexpected sources, and I am constantly looking forward to each day with all the surprises that keep coming my way! ~ Louise Hay

have written my first grateful thanks for a fresh new day in a new year. ~ Lailah Gifty Akita

It was a tough night," Marcus said briefly, another humorless smile crossing his mouth. "But they got what they paid for." "Jesus," Thomas murmured. Marcus slanted a glance at him, and his green eyes were hard, brittle. "Don't think about it, pet. I don't. No one who lives it dwells on this fucking stuff. You just thank God or your own balls for getting yourself through it, pulling yourself up into something better. The day I see pity in your face, I want your fucking ass out of my life. ~ Joey W. Hill

Okay, so on anniversaries, I need to give her something. An incentive."
Simon almost walked into a tree. "What?"
"An incentive. Like in third grade, when Mrs. Nestor gave me a cookie every day that I didn't read during class and promised me a candy bar if I didn't read all week."
"You never got that candy bar."
"Because it wasn't worth listening to her yammer about stuff I already knew. But this anniversary gift thing, is like that, right? An incentive for Chloe to keep going out with me."
He sighed. "No ... It's just a gift."
"To thank her for going out with me? ~ Kelley Armstrong

Each day, I count 100 times my blessings. What sacred-thanks? ~ Lailah Gifty Akita

After so many years of fighting to pour herself into skintight, low-rise jeans and binding pencil skirts and slacks that always felt like a vise around her waist, she found leggings were God's apology to women everywhere. For the first time, something that was in style actually flattered her figure perfectly by hiding her less-than-stellar mid- and rear section while accentuating her reasonably shapely legs. Every day she pulled a pair on she offered a silent thank-you to their inventor and a quiet prayer that they'd remain in fashion just a little bit longer. ~ Lauren Weisberger

The trouble with aggressive nonsmokers is that they feel they are doing you a favor by not allowing you to smoke. They seem to think that one day you'll look back and thank them for those precious fifteen seconds they just added to your life. What they don't understand is that those are just fifteen more seconds you can spend hating their guts and plotting revenge. ~ David Sedaris

Nope," she managed. "No other questions."
Eleven centuries of captivity. Hung on his hated enemy's study wall. Eleven centuries of not touching. Not eating. Not loving. Had he had anyone to talk
to?
Her face must have betrayed her thoughts, for he startled her by saying softly, " 'Tis no longer of
consequence, lass, but thank you for the compassion. 'Tis nigh over. Seventeen more days, Jessica. That's all."
For some reason his words brought a sudden hot burn of tears to the backs of her eyes. Not only hadn't eleven centuries turned him into a monster, he was trying to soothe her, to make her feel better about his imprisonment.
"You weep for me, woman?"
She turned away. "It's been a long day. Hell, it's been a long week."
"Jessica." Her name was a soft command.
She disobeyed it, staring out the window at the rolling hills.
"Jessica, look at me."
Eyes bright with unshed tears, she whipped her head around and glared at him. "I weep for you, okay?" she snapped. "For eleven centuries stuck in there. Can I start driving again or do you need something else?"
He smiled faintly, raised his hand, and splayed his palm against the inside of the silvery glass. Without an ounce of conscious thought, her hand rose to
meet his, aligning on the cool silver,
palm to palm, finger to finger, thumb to thumb. And though she felt only a cold hardness beneath her palm, the gesture made something go all warm and soft in her heart.< ~ Karen Marie Moning

Prayer: Father God, I can't thank You enough for all that You have given me. I have so much to be thankful for. My barns are overflowing, and grain is spilling out over the top. Thank You. Thank You. Amen. Action: Take a risk and say "Thank You" in God's presence. Today's Wisdom: For three things I thank God every day of my life: thanks that he has vouchsafed me knowledge of his works; deep thanks that he has set in my darkness the lamp of faith; deep, deepest thanks that I have another life to look forward to - a life joyous with light and flowers and heavenly song. - HELEN KELLER ~ Emilie Barnes

Sometimes life could be astonishingly efficient in dispensing mortifications. In the space of a minute, she would be exposed before three male visitors to be both freakishly tall and an abominably poor sculptor. What would come next? Perhaps her father would invite the men to count her freckles, one by one. They'd be here until moonrise.
Suddenly, Bramwell was at her side.
"This?" he asked, touching a finger to the model's edge.
She cringed, wishing she could deny it. "Yes, thank you."
As he retrieved the model from the shelf, she stole glances at him out of the corner of her eye. She had to admit, the Rycliff title suited him. Give the man a mace and a chain mail vest, and she could easily have mistaken him for a medieval warrior, squeezed through some rocky gap in the centuries to emerge in modern day. From the sheer size of him, large and solid all over, to that squared jaw, shadowed with a day's or more growth of whiskers. He moved with more power than grace, and he wore his dark hair long, tied back at his nape with a bit of leather cord. And the way he'd looked at her just before that kiss-as though he would devour her, and she would enjoy it-was straight from the Dark Ages.
As he presented the crumbling mess of sun-dried clay and pasted-on moss, Susanna fought the urge to blow dust off the thing. Evidently the maids couldn't reach this shelf, either.
"Isn't it clever?" Her father took the model from Bramwell's hands and held it up. "Susann ~ Tessa Dare

I remember the only time I ever saw my mother cry. I was eating apricot pie.
I remember how much I used to stutter.
I remember the first time I saw television. Lucille Ball was taking ballet lessons.
I remember Aunt Cleora who lived in Hollywood. Every year for Christmas she sent my brother and me a joint present of one book.
I remember a very poor boy who had to wear his sister's blouse to school.
I remember shower curtains with angel fish on them.
I remember very old people when I was very young. Their houses smelled funny.
I remember daydreams of being a singer all alone on a big stage with no scenery, just one spotlight on me, singing my heart out, and moving my audience to total tears of love and affection.
I remember waking up somewhere once and there was a horse staring me in the face.
I remember saying "thank you" in reply to "thank you" and then the other person doesn't know what to say.
I remember how embarrassed I was when other children cried.
I remember one very hot summer day I put ice cubes in my aquarium and all the fish died.
I remember not understanding why people on the other side of the world didn't fall off. ~ Joe Brainard

The first signal of the change in her behavior was Prince Andrew's stag night when the Princess of Wales and Sarah Ferguson dressed as policewomen in a vain attempt to gatecrash his party. Instead they drank champagne and orange juice at Annabel's night club before returning to Buckingham Palace where they stopped Andrew's car at the entrance as he returned home. Technically the impersonation of police officers is a criminal offence, a point not neglected by several censorious Members of Parliament. For a time this boisterous mood reigned supreme within the royal family. When the Duke and Duchess hosted a party at Windsor Castle as a thank you for everyone who had helped organize their wedding, it was Fergie who encouraged everyone to jump, fully clothed, into the swimming pool. There were numerous noisy dinner parties and a disco in the Waterloo Room at Windsor Castle at Christmas. Fergie even encouraged Diana to join her in an impromptu version of the can-can.
This was but a rehearsal for their first public performance when the girls, accompanied by their husbands, flew to Klosters for a week-long skiing holiday. On the first day they lined up in front of the cameras for the traditional photo-call. For sheer absurdity this annual spectacle takes some beating as ninety assorted photographers laden with ladders and equipment scramble through the snow for positions. Diana and Sarah took this silliness at face value, staging a cabaret on ice as they indulged in a mock con ~ Andrew Morton

Life is such a gift, I just say thank you all day. ~ Natalie Cole

Gratitude is a humble emotion. It expresses itself in a thousand ways, from a sincere thank you to friend or stranger, to the mute, up-reaching acknowledgment to God
not for the gifts of this day only, but for the day itself; not for what we believe will be ours in the future, but for the bounty of the past. ~ Faith Baldwin

Subject: Get Over Yourself.

Thank you for the childish picture text of the white dust that was outside your condo this morning. I really appreciated it, but I can assure you that that is NOT what the inside of my vagina looks like right now.

Not that it's any of your business, but I don't need to get laid every other day to satisfy my needs. They are WELL taken care of with a VARIETY of tools. ~ Whitney G.

I love you because you have made me laugh every day...I love you because you let me be me, and you have from the start. I love you for saying 'please' and 'thank you' and for kissing me good morning and good night. I love you for treating each day together as if it were a gift, not a curse...I love you for building me up and for never tearing me down. for seeing my flaws and forgiving them all. For finding the good in me, especially when I struggle to see it in myself. And for showing...how a woman should be treated, with dignity and kindness and equal respect...I love you for knowing when to take a stand and when to take a knee. And for always holding the door for me. Always... ~ Julie Cantrell

When man don't love you, more you try, more he hate you, man like that. If you love them they treat you bad, if you don't love them they after you night and day bothering your soul case out. I hear about you and your husband,' she said.
'But I cannot go. He is my husband after all.'
She spat over her shoulder. 'All women, all colours, nothing but fools. Three children I have. One living in this world, each one a different father, but no husband, I thank my God. I keep my money. I don't give it to no worthless man.'
'When must I go, where must I go?'
'But look me trouble, a rich white girl like you and more foolish than the rest. A man don't treat you good, pick up your skirt and walk out. Do it and he come after you. ~ Jean Rhys

A show of hands, please: How many of you have had a teacher at any stage of your education, from the first grade until this day in May, who made you happier to be alive, prouder to be alive, than you had previously believed possible? Good! Now say the name of that teacher to someone sitting or standing near you. All done? Thank you, and drive home safely, and God bless you all. ~ Kurt Vonnegut

I love you, Caro. I ain't an easy man to love. I'm grateful every damn day that you see past what's on the surface and know the man I am down deep. It's never scared you - even when it's scared me. You give me more happiness and love in one day than I ever thought I'd have in a lifetime. Thank you. ~ Lorelei James

Our Father, thank you for letting me see this New Day. Thank you that you didn't allow the bed I lay on last night to be my cooling board, nor my blanket my winding sheet. Guide my feet this day along the straight and narrow, and help me to put a bridle on my tongue. Bless this house, and everybody in it. Thank you, in the name of your Son, Jesus Christ, Amen. ~ Maya Angelou

Well, there's not a day goes by when I don't get up and say thank you to somebody. ~ Rod Stewart

The kids helped keep me together as well. One day they came in from playing after dinner, and I told them I was just completely exhausted by work and everything else. I said I'd take a shower as soon as I finished up; then we'd read and get ready for bed.
They warmed up some towels in the dryer while I was showering and had them waiting for me when I was done. They made some hot coffee--not really understanding that coffee before bed isn't the best strategy. But it was just the way I like it, and waiting on the bed stand. They turned down the bedcovers and even fluffed my pillows.
Most of the time, their gifts are unintentional.
Angel recently decided that, since the Tooth Fairy is so nice, someone should be nice to her. My daughter wrote a little note and left it under her pillow with some coins and her tooth.
Right?
The Tooth Fairy was very taken with that, and wrote a note back.
"I'm not allowed to take money from the children I visit," she wrote. "But I was so grateful. Thank you."
Then there was the time the kids were rummaging through one of Chris's closets and discovered the Christmas Elf.
Now everyone knows that the Christmas Elf only appears on Christmas Eve. He stays for a short while as part of holiday cheer, then magically disappears for the rest of the year.
"What was he doing here!" they said, very concerned, as they brought the little elf to me. "And in Daddy's closet!"
I called on the special brain cells paren ~ Taya Kyle

I'm jumping in right now. And I'm going to say that everybody I know has a 'day I met CM Punk story' and they're all 100% fabrication. It's all bullshit. Thank you. ~ CM Punk

So on this day of reflection I say again, thank you for going on this journey with me. I'll see you at the movies. ~ Roger Ebert

Will," she said softly, sleepily. "Last night
" You were kind to me, she was going to say. Thank you.
The glare from his blue eyes stabbed through her. "There was no last night," he said through his teeth.
At that, she sat up straight, almost awake. "Oh, truly? We just went right from one afternoon on through till the next morning? How odd no one else remarked on it. I should think it some miracle, a day with no night
~ Cassandra Clare

Blood pressure check!" The doorknob rattled, as if the nurse were intending just to walk in, but the lock held, thank God. The nurse knocked again.
"Oh, shit," Gina breathed, laughing as she scrambled off of him. She reached to remove the condom they'd just used, encountered . . . him, and met his eyes. But then she scooped her clothes off the floor and ran into the bathroom.
"Mr. Bhagat?" The nurse knocked on the door again. Even louder this time. "Are you all right?"
Oh, shit, indeed. "Come in," Max called as he pulled up the blanket and leaned on the button that put his bed back up into a sitting position. The same control device had a "call nurse" button as well as the clearly marked one that would unlock the door.
"It's locked," the nurse called back, as well he knew.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, as he wiped off his face with the edge of the sheet. Sweat much in bed, all alone, Mr. Bhagat? "I must've . . . Here, let me figure out how to . . ." He took an extra second to smooth his hair, his pajama top, and then, praying that the nurse had a cold and couldn't smell the scent of sex that lingered in the air, he hit the release.
"Please don't lock your door during the day," the woman scolded him as she came into the room, around to the side of his bed. It was Debra Forsythe, a woman around his age, whom Max had met briefly at his check-in. She had been on her way home to deal with some crisis with her kids, and hadn't been happy then, either. "And ~ Suzanne Brockmann

USURY: Everybody's looking for the job in which you never have to pay anyone their pound of flesh. Self-employed nirvana. A lot of artists like to think of themselves as uncompromising; a lot of management consultants won't tell you what they do until they've sunk five pints. I don't think anybody should give themselves air just because they don't have to hand over a pound of flesh every day at 5pm, and I don't think anyone should beat themselves with broken glass because they do. If you're an artist, well, good for you. Thank your lucky stars every evening and dance in the garden with the fairies. But don't fool yourself that you occupy some kind of higher moral ground. You have to work for that. Writing a few lines, painting a pretty picture - that just won't do it. ~ Zadie Smith