Warm Greetings Quotes

Be the living expression of God's kindness; kindness in your eyes, kindness in your face, kindness in your smile, kindness in your warm greetings. We are all but His instruments who do our little bit and pass by. I believe that the way in which an act of kindness is done is as important as the action itself. ~ Mother Teresa

Give warm greetings and farewells. I was surprised by how much this resolution changed the atmosphere of my home. ~ Gretchen Rubin

[Leafpool] waved her tail in greeting as she padded past Cloudtail and Daisy; as she left the clearing she heard Cloudtail meowing, "This time try to pretend I'm a badger and I'm going to eat your kits."
"But my kits really like you," Daisy protested. ~ Erin Hunter

After Evie had finished her plate, Sebastian tugged her to the billiards table and handed her a cue stick with a leather tip. Ignoring her attempts to refuse him, he proceeded to instruct her in the basics of the game. "Don't try to claim this is too scandalous for you," he told her with mock severity. "After running off with me to Gretna Green, nothing is beyond you. Certainly not one little billiards game. Bend over the table."
She complied awkwardly, flushing as she felt him lean over her, his body forming an exciting masculine cage as his hands arranged hers on the cue stick. "Now," she heard him say, "curl your index finger around the tip of the shaft. That's right. Don't grip so tightly, sweet…let your hand relax. Perfect." His head was close to hers, the light scent of sandalwood cologne rising from his warm skin. "Try to imagine a path between the cue ball - that's the white one - and the colored ball. You'll want to strike right about there" - he pointed to a place just above center on the cue ball - "to send the object ball into the side pocket. It's a straight-on shot, you see? Lower your head a bit. Draw the cue stick back and try to strike in a smooth motion."
Attempting the shot, Evie felt the tip of the cue stick fail to make proper contact with the white ball, sending it spinning clumsily off to the side of the table.
"A miscue," Sebastian remarked, deftly catching the cue ball in his hand and repositioning it. "Whenever that happens, reach f ~ Lisa Kleypas

I have no hostility to nature, but a child's love to it. I expand and live in the warm day like corn and melons. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Maybe, someday we all will come out of those beautiful and warm shelters we have built around us and open our arms to the storms, smiling at them. Maybe, we all will finally let them take us all and throw in the middle of nowhere. Where nobody knows each other anymore, and we are all strangers again. ~ Akshay Vasu

They say a man's inspiration is visual, but for a woman, it's the narrative.
Abandon both the narrative and the visual. Close your eyes, measure your breath.
Dead weight is sloughed off, dust swept away, forms dissolve into one atmosphere.
The rib cage opens, the lungs fill, the breast rises.
Waves sweep up the body on their swell, rocking it rhythmically.
Feet planted, the back arches, the pelvis reaches forward.
Oxygen kindles a flame, sprawling through the belly, and gathering in a warm blaze.
The hand reaches to meet the sensation.
Calligraphy spills from the inkwell.
Open your eyes, sharpen your focus, and exclaim:
There are no separations. ~ Craig Thompson

PLAY ME.
My gaze flicked to the hand. The fist was curled around a small tape recorder. I moved the fingers - still warm - and pressed play. A male voice started to speak.
"Do I have your attention?" the voice asked.
I knew that voice. But I couldn't believe I was hearing it.
"Noah's alive," Jude said. ~ Michelle Hodkin

It's always coldest before the warm. ~ Spider Robinson

As I slowly managed to take what I had learned into a transition from contestant to announcer and warm-up, I first had to prove myself on pilots. And as you know, many pilots are taped for each show that is lucky enough to breakthrough to being a series. ~ Randy West

Sleeping in the back of the van was cramped and a little stuffy-like sleeping in a compartment on a train, Kaitlyn guessed. But she didn't really mind being crowded in with Rob. He was warm and nice to hang on to. Comfortingly solid. ~ L.J.Smith

A moment of grace. There rose up within me a profound sense of being loved. I felt "gathered together" and encircled by a Presence completely loving, as if I were enveloped by the music of a love song created just for me. It was not overwhelming or even emotional. Just a warm knowing that I was in God's loving embrace ... centered and unified there.
[Love]encounters cannot be analyzed, only shared. If you take a butterfly, Robert Frost said, and pin it down into a box, you no longer have a butterfly. ~ Sue Monk Kidd

How warm the day can be when the wind is at your back. ~ Jenna Blum

Yellow makes me feel warm and fuzzy all over. ~ Anthony T. Hincks

One Christmas at the very beginning of your twenties when your mother gives you a warm coat that she saved for months to buy, don't look at her skeptically after she tells you she thought the coat was perfect for you. Don't hold it up and say it's longer than you like your coats to be and too puffy and possibly even too warm. Your mother will be dead by spring. That coat will be the last gift she gave you. You will regret the small thing you didn't say for the rest of your life.
Say thank you. ~ Cheryl Strayed

Sleep - real sleep, the dear, the cherished one, the lullaby. So deep and warm the bed and the pillow enfolding me, letting me sink into peace, nothingness - my dreams now, after the catharsis of the dark hours, are of young and lovely people doing young, lovely things, the girls I knew once, with big brown eyes, real yellow hair. ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

I put my head on his shoulder
'Wh-what are you doing?' he yells, shoving me away from him with wide eyes.
'I was giving you a hug!' I say.
'Y-you-!'
'Pff. D'you really think I'd do that? I'm trying to keep warm, idiot. You're like my overgrown Furby.'
'I'm in a human form, not my kytaen!'
'Tomayto, tomahto.' I come close to him.
He pushes me away. 'You shouldn't be doing that!'
'What's the problem? You said you're my tool, right? Well, I'm cold, tool of mine, so why don't you calm the hell down and give me some of that sweet, sweet warmth?'
'Don't touch me!'
'I'm starting to think you're self-conscious in this form. You let me cuddle you in your other-'
'We did not cuddle!' he shouts.
I manage a grin. 'Would you prefer I use a different word? Snuggle, maybe? ~ Giselle Simlett

Many people think that the theory of the selfish gene says that "animals try to spread their genes." That misstates the facts and it misstates the theory. Animals, including most people, know nothing about genetics and care even less. People love their children not because they want to spread their genes (consciously or unconsciously) but because they can't help it. That love makes them try to keep their children warm, fed, and safe. What is selfish is not the real motives of the person but the metaphorical motives of the genes that built the person. Genes "try" to spread themselves by wiring animals' brains so the animals love their kin and try to keep warm, fed, and safe. ~ Steven Pinker

The kitchen. La cucina, the true mother country, this warm cave of the good witch deep in the desolate land of loneliness, with pots of sweet potions bubbling over the fire, a cavern of magic herbs, rosemary and thyme and sage and oregano, balm of lotus that brought sanity to lunatics, peace to the troubled, joy to the joyless, this small twenty-by-twenty world, the altar a kitchen range, the magic circle a checkered tablecloth where the children fed, the old children, lured back to their beginnings, the taste of mother's milk still haunting their memories, fragrance in the nostrils, eyes brightening, the wicked world receding as the old mother witch sheltered her brood from the wolves outside. ~ John Fante

I'll let you off your leash, but you have to show some manners. No humping, no pissing on anything man made, and keep the crotch greetings exclusive to your four-legged fury friends. Got it?"

Swarley nods because I've made him part human over the past few months and I'm pretty sure I saw him roll his eyes at me too. Guess I'd better start getting used to sassiness and eye rolling … read that on a parenting blog too.

Note to self. Find more positive bloggers that paint the picture of parenthood with rainbows, fairies, and pixie dust.

"Sydney?"

I turn. "Hey, Dane!"

He bends down to let his dogs off their leashes. "Gosh, I didn't think you'd be back. How was Paris?"

Which part? The view of the ceiling from the couch or the drain from the top of the toilet?

"Great!" Extremely sugarcoated … maybe teetering on an outright lie.

"So how long are you staying?" He rests his hands on his hips.

Dane is adorable. I'm sure grown men don't like to be called adorable; hell, I didn't like it when Lautner said it to me, but Dane is just that. Tall, dark, and admittedly handsome with a boyish grin that makes me want to take him home, bake him cookies, and pour him a tall glass of milk.

"I'm not sure. Trevor and Elizabeth just moved to San Diego and I'm staying at their house until it sells or until I find something else."

He cocks his head to the side. "Yet, they left Swarley ~ Jewel E. Ann

The barking of the dogs was getting louder, closer once more. Jesse's finger curled
around the trigger. He tried to still his mind from all thoughts. But the image of Miss
Althea lingered.
Sweet-smelling Miss Althea with her warm smile and her so very round parts. She never looked at him mean or like she was afraid. She looked at him loving, warm and loving, like she looked at the boy. She looked at Jesse that way. And he liked it. He really liked it. But he wanted it different, too. He was not a boy. Jesse was a man. He wanted Miss Althea to see that. He wanted to put meat on her table. That's what men do for the women they love. ~ Pamela Morsi

I'm sorry," he whispered, pressing his cheek against her hair. "I'm such a jackass."
She rubbed her hands up and down his back. He was warm and alive and next to her. Nothing else really mattered.
"Jackass seems strong," she murmured.
"How about a first-class screwup?"
"If you're going to do a job, then do it the best you can."
He chuckled low in his throat. "Gee, thanks."
"You're welcome. ~ Susan Mallery

Though critics may bow to art, and I am its own true lover,
It is not art, but heart, which wins the wide world over.

Though smooth be the heartless prayer, no ear in Heaven will mind it,
And the finest phrase falls dead if there is no feeling behind it.

Though perfect the player's touch, little, if any, he sways us,
Unless we feel his heart throb through the music he plays us.

Though the poet may spend his life in skilfully rounding a measure,
Unless he writes from a full, warm heart he gives us little pleasure.

So it is not the speech which tells, but the impulse which goes with the saying;
And it is not the words of the prayer, but the yearning back of the praying.

It is not the artist's skill which into our soul comes stealing
With a joy that is almost pain, but it is the player's feeling.

And it is not the poet's song, though sweeter than sweet bells chiming,
Which thrills us through and through, but the heart which beats under the rhyming.

And therefore I say again, though I am art's own true lover,
That it is not art, but heart, which wins the wide world over. ~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us. ~ T. S. Eliot

The book is warm. The book is handy. The book is handsome to the eye. The book occupies the shelf of the owner and is a reflection of him or her or, actually, me. The book is always there, to be reached for, to be thumbed and, too often I admit, to wonder about: Why did I buy this? ~ Richard Cohen

I never knew what sad work the reading of old-letters was before that evening, though I could hardly tell why. The letters were as happy as letters could be - at least those early letters were. There was in them a vivid and intense sense of the present time, which seemed so strong and full, as if it could never pass away, and as if the warm, living hearts that so expressed themselves could never die, and be as nothing to the sunny earth. I should have felt less melancholy, I believe, if the letters had been more so. ~ Elizabeth Gaskell

She went downstairs to the library and wrote two letters. One was to her father, the other to Jess and Ronan. She folded them, stamped the wax seals with her seal ring, and put the writing materials away. She was holding the letters in one hand, the wax firm yet still warm against the skin, when she heard footsteps beating down the marble hall, coming closer.
Arin stepped inside the library and shut the door. "You won't do it," he said. "You won't duel him."
The sight of Arin shook her. She wouldn't be able to think straight if he continued to speak like that, to look at her like that. "You do not give me orders," Kestrel said. She moved to leave.
He blocked her path. "I know about the delivery. He sent you a death-price."
"First my dress, and now this? Arin, one would think you are monitoring everything I send and receive. It is none of your business."
He seized her by the shoulders. "You are so small."
Kestrel knew what he was doing, and hated it, hated him for reminding her of her physical weakness, of the same failure that her father witnessed whenever he watched her fight with Rax. "Let go."
"Make me let you go."
She looked at Arin. Whatever he saw in her eyes loosened his hands. "Kestrel," he said more quietly, "I have been whipped before. Lashes and death are different things."
"I won't die."
"Let Irex set my punishment."
"You're not listening to me." She would have said more, but realized that his hands still rest ~ Marie Rutkoski

And then Rollan reached out and took her hand. His fingers were warm. Meilin had never been so aware of the beating of her heart. ~ Shannon Hale

She had always enjoyed the warm, calming feeling of the sand. It slipped as a silken scarf of liquid sunshine across the surface of her skin. Kayn took one hand and ran it over the surface of the sand, and it shifted as though it had been moved by a light breeze without her hand making contact. Her life now had no room for feet being firmly planted on the ground. She had to allow her mind to take off in flight and accept the impossible. She had to embrace life as a toddler. In a child's world, every breath of life is a mystery; everything had the possibility of being magic. ~ Kim Cormack

Humor gives presidents the chance to be seen as warm, relaxed persons. Humor reaches out and puts its arm around the listener and says, 'I am one of you, I understand,' and implicitly it promises, 'I will do something about your problems. ~ Robert Orben

It was soaring, that voice, warm and complicated, utterly fearless. ~ Ann Patchett

There was so much to talk about that nothing was said. It was warm sitting there on the steps. Everything seemed to be so right. ~ Tove Jansson

My ears won't fool me. Even when I do a session on digital, we still warm it up somewhere in the process, in mastering or mixing, running the signal through some tubes somewhere. ~ Steve Cropper

My greetings to you, my Germany. ~ Alfred Jodl

The sky was a midnight-blue, like warm, deep, blue water, and the moon seemed to lie on it like a water-lily, floating forward with an invisible current. ~ Willa Cather

I think when you have a good warm up you feel good about your performance. You know that you've trained so mentally you're in a better state. ~ Keauna McLaughlin

Editors may think of themselves as dignified headwaiters in a well-run restaurant but more often [they] operate a snack bar ... and expect you to be grateful that at least they got the food to the table warm. ~ Thomas B. Griffith

Distinguishing the first true birds from their feathered dinosaur relations has become increasingly difficult. If we define birds as warm-blooded, feathered, bipedal animals that lay eggs, then many coelurosaurs are birds, so we have to take another approach. ~ Brian Switek

Jude's sheets never smelled like anything but Jude, and they were anything but soft. Scratchy and cheap, the blue fabric had several holes from years of use. But none of that had ever bothered me because I was in his arms, safe and warm in his arms. ~ J.L. Berg

Trappings and charm wear off, I've learned. The book of welcome says, Let people see you. They see that your upper arms are beautiful, soft and clean and warm, and then they will see this about their own, some of the time. It's called having friends, choosing each other, getting found, being fished out of the rubble. It blows you away, how this wonderful event happened - me in your life, you in mine. Two parts fit together. This hadn't occurred all that often, but now that it does, it's the wildest experience. It could almost make a believer out of you. Of course, life will randomly go to hell every so often, too. Cold winds arrive and prick you; the rain falls down your neck; darkness comes. But now there are two of you. Holy Moly. ~ Anne Lamott