Quotes & Sayings About My Beloved Husband

His face searching the bus windows looked expectant, impatient, and a little anxious. It was a husband's face. Familiar, known, increasing beloved. Mary Ann, I reflected, had an awful lot to learn. And actually, I reflected, I wouldn't be in her shoes right now for all the flowers in Bermuda ... having it all to learn again.
— Ann Head

The home team: my dearest, most patient, most beloved husband, Rich, who does everything so that I can do — Roxanne St. Claire

What an encouraging thought that Jesus - our beloved Husband - can find comfort in our lowly feeble gifts! Can this be, for it seems far too good to be true? May we then be willing to endure trials or even death itself if through these hardships we are assisted in bringing gladness to Immanuel's heart. — Charles Spurgeon

The Duke of Clarence, the king's beloved brother George, is beside him looking like a true York prince, golden-haired, ready of smile, graceful even in repose, a handsome dainty copy of my husband. He is fair and well made, his bow is as elegant as an Italian dancer's, and his smile is charming. "Your Grace," he says. "My new sister. I give you joy of your surprise marriage and wish you well in your new estate. — Philippa Gregory

You've been tested.' He advised me to try and 'forgive and pardon, and this way seek to become beloved by God' without my forgiveness being tied to the one who wronged me. 'This is the Divine remedy,' he emphasised, 'remind your ego when it resists. Don't you love for God to forgive you on the day, too?'

Reflecting on what the Shaykh said, his advice undid a knot in my heart and I resolved to work on my forgiveness purely for the sake of God. The Shaykh also recommended: 'Be careful about what you pray for in the future.' He promised to pray for me personally, asking God to send me a Muslim husband who would value and cherish me for who I am. Insha' Allah! — Kristiane Backer

Every time we make the decision to love someone, we open ourselves to great suffering, because those we most love cause us not only great joy but also great pain. The greatest pain comes from leaving. When the child leaves home, when the husband or wife leaves for a long period of time or for good, when the beloved friend departs to another country or dies ... the pain of the leaving can tear us apart.
Still, if we want to avoid the suffering of leaving, we will never experience the joy of loving. And love is stronger than fear, life stronger than death, hope stronger than despair. We have to trust that the risk of loving is always worth taking. — Henri J.M. Nouwen

But instead of all that, here he was - the rich husband of an unfaithful wife, a retired gentleman-in-waiting, who liked to eat, drink, and, unbuttoning himself, to denounce the government a little, a member of the Moscow English Club, and a universally beloved member of Moscow society. — Leo Tolstoy

Even my beloved Peng Choon, wonderful husband that he was, liked to think of himself as the smarter of us two, which for the sake of peace I allowed. — Selina Siak Chin Yoke

A sore pain troubles me day and night, and I cannot sleep; I long for the meeting with my Beloved, and my father's house gives me pleasure no more. The gates of the sky are opened, the temple is revealed: I meet my husband, and leave at His feet the offering of my body and my mind. — Kabir

There's a fragment of some conversation, I'm remembering it. Someone is saying: "You have to understand: this is not your husband anymore, not a beloved person, but a radioactive object with a strong density of poisoning. You're not suicidal. Get ahold of yourself." And I'm like someone who's lost her mind: "But I love him! I love him!" He's sleeping, and I'm whispering: "I love you!" Walking in the hospital courtyard, "I love you." Carrying his sanitary tray, "I love you. — Svetlana Alexievich

She lay there thinking, on the rich, wet graveyard grass, before the tomb of some random parishioner - Beloved Son, Husband, Father - and what she thought was this: she'd been right about almost everything. She'd gotten nearly full marks. A minus again. Blew only one question.

Here's the one thing I got wrong, she thought. I thought that they could never wear me down. — Lev Grossman

Some smart folk wish to love Jesus, but prefer to ignore his bride, the Church. This goes no better for these rude people than it does when any loving husband meets a boor who condescends, ignores, or insults his beloved. — Holly Ordway

We were pressed against each other, a husband and wife bound together not by marriage, but by the harmony of our hearts. Death could not undo us, I'd learned. My hamsar was with me still. He would watch over us, my beloved husband, as we made our way into tomorrow. — Nadia Hashimi

You are my favourite part of life. — Kamand Kojouri

My family joins me in sharing the difficult news that Gerald Ford, our beloved husband, father, grandfather and great grandfather has passed away at 93 years of age. His life was filled with love of God, his family and his country. — Betty Ford

Christian, let God's distinguishing love to you be a motive to you to fear Him greatly. He has put His fear in your heart, and may not have given that blessing to your neighbor, perhaps not to your husband, your wife, your child, or your parent. Oh, what an obligation should this thought lay upon your heart to greatly fear the Lord! Remember also that this fear of the Lord is His treasure, a choice jewel, given only to favorites, and to those who are greatly beloved. — John Bunyan

Julia played for them: for her husband and her beloved son. And tried to believe somewhere in her heart that, wherever they were, they could hear her. — Lucinda Riley

Clutter, a young boy with his whole life before him, tied helplessly in sight of his father's death struggle. Or young Nancy Clutter, hearing the gunshots and knowing her time was next. Nancy, begging for her life: 'Don't. Oh, please don't. Please. Please.' What agony! What unspeakable torture! And there remains the mother, bound and gagged and having to listen as her husband, her beloved children died one by one. Listen until at last the killers, these defendants before you, entered her room, focused a flashlight in her eyes, and let the blast of a shotgun end the existence of an entire household." Pausing, Green gingerly touched a boil on — Truman Capote

My grandmother flew only once in her life, and that was the day she and her new husband ascended into the skies of Victorian London in the wicker basket of a hot-air balloon. They were soon to emigrate to Canada, and the aerial ride was meant to be a last view of their beloved England. — Alan Bradley

By loving you,
I learn everything
because your soul
contains the entire universe. — Kamand Kojouri

Classical Sanskrit prose writers made very long sentences like this: "Lost in the forest and in thought, bent upon death and at the root of a tree, fallen upon calamity and her nurse's bosom, parted from her husband and happiness, burnt with the fierce sunshine and the woes of widowhood, her mouth closed with silence as well as by her hand, held fast by her companions as well as by grief, I saw her with her kindred and her graces all gone, her ears and her soul left bare, her ornaments and her aims abandoned, her bracelets and her hopes broken, her companions and the needle-like grass-spears clinging round her feet, her eyes and her beloved fixed within her bosom, her sighs and her hair long, her limbs and her merits exhausted, her aged attendants and her streams of tears falling down at her feet...." and it goes on. — Abraham Eraly

To say the least, it was inconsiderate of Diana's almost-dead husband to show up at her engagement party. — Robin Lee Hatcher

My Portion // PS. 142:5 My Maker, my Husband ISAIAH 54:5 My Well beloved S. OF S. 1:13, KJV My Savior // 2 PET. 3:18 My Hope // 1 TIM. 1:1 My Brother // MK. 3:35 My Helper // HEB. 13:6 My Physician //JER. 8:22 My Healer // LK. 9:11) My Refiner and my Purifier // MAL. 3:3 My Lord and Master JN. 13:13, KJV My Servant // LK. 12:37) My Example // JN. 13:15 My Teacher // JN. 3:2 My Shepherd // PS. 23:1 My Keeper // JN. 17:12 My Feeder // EZK. 34:23 My Leader // IS. 40:11 My Restorer // PS. 23:3 My Restingplace // JER. 50:6 My Meat and my Drink JN. 6:55, KJV My Passover // 1 COR. 5:7 My Peace // EPH. 2:14, My Wisdom, my Righteousness, my Sanctification, my Redemption — Anonymous

If, when the prodigal came back to his father, there was the preparation of the fatted calf, and the music and dancing, and the gold ring and the best robe, what will be the preparation when we do not come home as prodigals, but as the bride prepared for her husband, or as the beloved children, without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing, coming home to the Father who shall see his own image in us, and rejoice over us with singing? — Charles Haddon Spurgeon

Our house was a collection of silences, each room a mute, empty frame, each of us three oscillating bodies (Mom, Dad, me) moving around in our own curved functions, from space to space, not making any noise, just waiting, waiting to wait, trying, for some reason, not to disrupt the field of silence, not to perturb the delicate equilibrium of the system. We wandered from room to room, just missing one another, on paths neither chosen by us nor random, but determined by our own particular characteristics, our own properties, unable to deviate, to break from our orbital loops, unable to do something as simple as walking into the next room where our beloved, our father, our mother, our child, our wife, our husband, was sitting, silent, waiting but not realizing it, waiting for someone to say something, anything, wanting to do it, yearning to do it, physically unable to bring ourselves to change our velocities. — Charles Yu

My beloved husband goes through radiation, and a book of sonnets is my passionate response. And then after he dies, I write another book of poems as a farewell. The two keywords here are passion and joy. I simply have a passion for writing, and I do it with joy. — Jane Yolen

We should all know this: that listening is not talking; [it] is the gifted and great role and the imaginative role. And the true listener is much more beloved, magnetic than the talker, and he is more effective, and learns more and does more good. And so try listening. Listen to your wife, your husband, your father, your mother, your children, your friends; to those who love you and those who don't, to those who bore you, to your enemies. It will work a small miracle. And perhaps a great one. — Brenda Ueland

Do I know that? How the hell can I possibly know that? Only a few hours earlier, Chris, my beloved husband of twenty years, jumped to his death off the roof of a parking garage a mile from our home. Cops came to the house in a pair to tell me, just like in the movies. Ding-dong, your husband's dead. Your life is over. Except it's not. — Amy Biancolli

Marrying cousins was astoundingly common into the nineteenth century, and nowhere is this better illustrated than with the Darwins and their cousins the Wedgwoods (of pottery fame). Charles married his first cousin Emma Wedgwood, daughter of his beloved Uncle Josiah. Darwin's sister Caroline, meanwhile, married Josiah Wedgwood III, Emma's brother and the Darwin siblings' joint first cousin. Another of Emma's brothers, Henry, married not a Darwin but a first cousin from another branch of his own Wedgwood family, adding another strand to the family's wondrously convoluted genetics. Finally, Charles Langton, who was not related to either family, first married Charlotte Wedgwood, another daughter of Josiah and cousin of Charles, and then upon Charlotte's death married Darwin's sister Emily, thus becoming, it seems, his sister-in-law's sister-in-law's husband and raising the possibility that any children of the union would be their own first cousins. — Bill Bryson

ELIZABETH SIROIS WHARTON, 87, passed away peacefully on May 29, 2010, at Warsaw County Memorial Hospital. She was born on January 19, 1923, the son of Marcel and Catherine Sirois. She is survived by her brother, Henry Sirois, her sister, Charlotte Gibney, her niece, Holly Gibney, and her daughter, Janelle Patterson. Elizabeth was predeceased by her husband, Alvin Wharton, and her beloved daughter, Olivia. Private visitation will be held from 10 AM to 1 PM at Soames Funeral Home — Stephen King