#dear

This year, as we celebrate the 230th anniversary of America's independence, please remember the symbols that are sacred to this country. Fly Old Glory high and show your respect and admiration for this great nation and the values we hold dear. ↗

— Kenny Marchant

#america #anniversary #celebrate #country #dear

In my time since moving to the United States, I've found that there is a dearth of great writing for black people. There are stories that depict us in a way that isn't cliched or niche, and that a white person, a Chinese person, an Indian person can watch and relate to. Those are the stories I want to be a part of telling. ↗

— David Oyelowo

#chinese #cliched #dearth #depict #found

I want so much for my lover. At night when our beds are drawn close together I waken and see his dear yellow head on the pillow - sometimes his arm thrown over on my bed - and I kiss his hand, very softly so that it will not waken him. ↗

— Dawn Powell

#bed #beds #close #dear #drawn

I come home from work this evening there was a note in the frying pan said Fix Your Own Supper Babe I Run Off With The Fuller Brush Man Well I sat down at the table screamed & hollered & cried I commenced to carring on 'till I almost lost my mind and I miss the way she used to Yell At Me the way she used to Cuss & Moan and if I ever go out and get married again I'll never leave my wife at home The Frying Pan Diamonds In The Rough John Prine ↗

— John Prine

#endearing #frying-pan #fuller-brush-man #marriage #supper

We need to be shaping our kids into arrows that will fly straight to the target God has set for them. If we're not carefully shaping and aiming our arrows, others will try to steal them and shape them for their use. What's worse, they will aim our children at targets of their own choosing. We should never be surprised if we are wounded by the members of our own family, if we have allowed sworn enemies of Christ to aim them. ↗

— Gregg Harris

#family

Dear Beloved woman, Time… so much time has passed since my love wrote his last words for me. And yet I remember it as if it were yesterday. I remember writing back and for the first time since I had left home I told my love what kind of darkness surrounded me here. I forgot all the sweet things my father had said to my mother when he was away. I forgot how they got her through all those long and lonely nights. ↗

— Talon P.S.

#dear-john #letters #soldiers #war #love

Mrs. Palmer is a teacher so naturally I assumed she would never do anything good for me. ↗

— Jim Benton

#diary #dumb #humor #teacher #humor

The last word of love is ... goodbye. ↗

— Carroll Bryant

#loveless #lovers #romance-dear-john #romantic-tragedy #love

She never called her son by any name but John; 'love' and 'dear', and such like terms, were reserved for Fanny. ↗

— Elizabeth Gaskell

#funny-and-random #mothers #names #sobriquet #sons

Returning my voice to a conversational level, I called back, “Nora, I’m not attempting to embarrass you or single you out. I know you’re capable. But stay behind Chas, okay? You die, you d i e permanently, and for various reasons that we’ve already gotten angsty about together, I don’t want that to happen.” “Okay, okay,” she sighed. “Angsty?” Chas asked. “Ooh! Later, details!” “Yes, later.” With that, I waved the team forward. ↗

— Lia Habel

#dystopian #fiction #lia-habel #paranormal #romance