Greet Happy Birthday Quotes

Even if you are king of kings, you cannot mourn your death, the only option is to celebrate your birth ... Happy Birthday

Outside, she thought that there ought to be a word for it: the air temperature that was perfectly neither hot nor cold. One degree lower, and she might have felt a faint misgiving about not having brought a jacket. One degree higher, and a skim of sweat might have glistened at her hairline. But at this precise degree, she required neither wrap nor breeze. Were there a word for such a temperature, there would have to be a corollary for the particular ecstasy of greeting it - the heedlessness, the needlessness, the suspended lack of urgency, as if time could stop, or should. Usually temperature was a battle; only at this exact fulcrum was it an active delight.

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.

I received my birthday greetings on Facebook. It was weird to get tens of happy birthday messages on my wall and not know whether they had smiled, or if they had dedicated more than a few seconds while browsing other people’s messages, email, web sites, chat windows, and who knows what else. I have never met in real life most of the people who greeted me. Some of them I don’t even know or remember who they are. None of the people who left me a birthday message called my phone.

• Can I give a smile at almost everyone I see even if I have a bad day! .. Yes I can • Can I tell a new co-worker a shortcut way to come to work instead of the long one he told us to save him/her sometime every day! .. Yes, I can. • Can I buy a flower or a bouquet and visit a sick person that I do not know at the hospital maybe once a week or once a month! .. Yes, I can. • Can I say Happy Birthday to someone you don’t know but you heard like today years ago he/she was born! .. Yes, I can. • Can I congratulate my neighbor for their newborn child by sending a greeting card or even verbally! .. Yes, I can. • Can I buy a hot meal or give away a coat to a homeless person when it is too cold or the same meal and an ice-cream when it is too hot! .. Yes I can • Can ask someone about another one who is important to the first to inquire about his health, condition, how he/she is doing so far! .. Yes I can • Can I give a little bit of time to my child (or children) every day as a personal time where we could talk, play, discuss, solve, think, enjoy, argue, hang out, play sports, watch, listen, eat, and/or entertain together! .. Yes I can. • Can I allow some time to listen to my wife without judgment but encouragement almost every day! … Yes I can. • Can I respectfully talk to my husband at least once a day to show respect and appreciation to the head of our house and family! .. Yes, I can. • Can I buy a flower and give it to someone I care about and say "I love you" and when the person asks you "what this for" you reply "because I love you". Yes, I can. • Can I listen to anyone who I feel needs someone else to listen to him/her! .. Yes, I can. • Can I give away the things that I do not use anyone to others who might need them! .. Yes, I can. • Can I buy myself something that I do adore and then enjoy it! .. Yes, I can. • Can I (fill in the blanks)! .. Yes I can.

Sadly, people boycotted me, and I don´t even have internet access permanently right now, and i am pretty much ruined... Incase you didnt forget about me, I live in Lore Kullmer Straße 3, Rainsboro (Regensburg), Appartment Roth/ Bülbül. Happy Birthday too btw. Greetings, the Guy from the tshirt/ the lyrics one.

Happy Birthday 生日快乐   I wish you good health and happiness in life Today and always……. 祝你身体健康，生活快乐 今天直到永远。。。。。。

In June, I received my birthday greetings on Facebook. It was weird to get tens of happy birthday messages on my wall and not know whether they had smiled, or if they had dedicated more than a few seconds while browsing other people’s messages, email, web sites, chat windows, and who knows what else. I have never met in real life most of the people who greeted me. Some of them I don’t even know or remember who they are. None of the people who left me a birthday message called my phone.

Like a perfectly timed chorus they greet me with an off-key “Happy Birthday” song. “Officially

Recoiling backwards from the horror, his flight catapulted him headlong over the rail of the balcony. His piercing scream drowned out the uproarious Happy Birthday greeting from his wife, friends, and neighbors flooding into the hallway and the living room to begin the celebration. In midair, when someone turned on the lights in the dining room, Gary saw the monster from the master bedroom pulling off her rubber mask and looking down at him from the railing with sad eyes. It was Janine, his next-door neighbor. In the seconds before Gary lost consciousness after breaking his neck on the ceramic tile floor, he saw the entire room fill with balloons and confetti. Gwen looked ravishing in her favorite cocktail dress blowing a noisemaker and tossing a streamer into the air. A huge banner with the words, “Happy Halloween, Gary on Your 40th Birthday… A Night To Remember” was the last thing he saw before the grim reaper gobbled him up. Gwen had done it again. She had planned a truly memorable party that no one in attendance would ever forget. Gary died on the same day he was born, October 31.

On May 1st, 1994, a woman wished me happy birthday. I'll remember her all my life for that greeting. If memory is also a tin, I hope it never expires. If it does, I hope it's in 10,000 years.

Hi, birthday boy,” I called out, a little more shyly than I would’ve expected. “Hi, Jackie. Hi, Johnny.” “Hi, Ora,” the teenager called out as Jackie hopped off the couch and came over to hug me, Johnny’s greeting ringing out too. We were good together, but she had never really hugged me before, probably because of the awkwardness. Secrets and lies could do that to people. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Amos got to his feet and headed over too, looking like he wasn’t totally onboard with the idea but resigned. I was winning this kid over slowly but surely. Just as Jackie pulled away, he gave me one of those little half smiles that I could only guess he’d learned from his dad and said, “Thanks for helping with the cake.” “You’re welcome,” I told him. “Want a birthday hug?” He hunched his shoulders, and I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him, feeling his thin ones go up too, patting me on the back gently and awkwardly. He was too precious. When he stepped back, I thrust the card at him. “This was the best I could do on short notice, but happy birthday.” He didn’t even really look at the card before taking it after glancing at Jackie. He opened it, his gaze moved across the inside of it, and his gray eyes flicked up to me. Then he surprised the shit out of me. He smiled. And I knew in that moment that the second he hit his next growth spurt, this kid was going to have the same effect his father did on humanity. Someone was going to need to protect him from the sexual vultures. Then again, if he developed his dad’s scowl, maybe not. He was just a sweet kid for now.

I laugh a little self-consciously and wipe the lipstick from his mouth. I start to pull away, but Rhyson bends to whisper in my ear, holding me still in front of him. “You might, uh, wanna just stand here for a second unless you want this boner poking Aunt Ruthie in the eye.” I drop my head to his chest and giggle, but stand there obediently until he releases me to greet the people waiting to wish me a happy birthday.

However, as Tata got older, he even tolerated some religious rituals around him to please his friends and admirers. On Tata's ninetieth birthday, I saw an amusing instance of this tolerance. Tata's good friend Mattur Krishnamurthy, a devout Brahminical theist and Sanskrit scholar, who had headed the Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan in London, had come to Saligrama to greet him. He brought along two tall, plump Brahmin priests from his village near Shivamogga. In that hamlet steeped in Vedic traditions, many reportedly speak Sanskrit as a matter of routine. The priests had brought jagates (musical instruments) and some vibhuti (sacred ashes). Krishnamurthy first sought Tata's permission. Thereafter, the priests smeared some vibhuti on Tata, and, loudly clanging the jagates, they bellowed Sanskrit slokas. While Krishnamurthy was beaming with happiness, the bored-looking priests performed by rote. Tata stood still with a bemused look on his face. At the end of it all, Tata said he was pleased that his friend was happy.