Christmas Quotes - Page 11

My idea of Christmas, whether old-fashioned or modern, is very simple: loving others. Come to think of it, why do we have to wait for Christmas to do that?

What could be more exciting than an October day? It's your birthday, Fourth of July and Christmas all rolled into one.

Best of all are the decorations the grandchildren have made ~ fat little stars and rather crooked Santas, shaped out of dough and baked in the oven.

Ingredients for a terrific Christmas: Christ. Love for one another. Forgiveness. Generosity. Time. Music. Children’s laughter. Reminising with loved ones. Remembering those who are alone. The making of new memories.

So they told us all about how other kids were deceived by their parents, how the toys the grown-ups claimed were made by little elves wearing bell caps in their workshop at the North Pole actually had labels on them saying MADE IN JAPAN.

This is the way the wheel turns, coming at last to full circle, with wild as well as tame at he crib; lion and turtle-dove together an barnyard beasts lying down with the fox. For wild and tame are but two hlaves and here, where all begins and ends, everything must be whole.And always, among the sleepers, there must be somebody waking - somewhere, someone, waking and watchful. Or what would happen to the world..?

Amidst such Soulful freedom, Christmas is never hindered - but, freely embraced.

Let what is Soulfully shared this Christmas, remind you of all you have the power to achieve.

Merry Christmas!' someone shouted. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. 'Merry Christmas!''Merry Christmas!''C-cookies for ever'body!' Sammy hollered. And looking both ways, they all fled across to the light, and the warmth, and the books, and the mystery.

Junk?” Gram gasped. “One man’s junk is another man’s treasure, you know.”“Yeah, well, maybe it’s time to let another man have it, you think?” he teased. ~ "The Mirror

Later in the winter I'd tire of the snow, but Christmas snow was different.

Reach out to the fullness of God’s grace strength for any accomplishment.

For the rest, silence or good music, not much food, a lot of solitude, walks on the Heath, the time to think while others... well, often fall apart. Not so bad, not so bad at all. Being queer and self-sufficient is the best present at this season.

We cannot humanize the fact that the story was penned to have the eternal God, Who Himself knows no beginning nor is in need of one, choose to experience a beginning. That is genius in and of itself.

Sometimes it's easy to get caught up in life and take things for granted.

There would be no Christmas if there was no Easter.

To those Romans December twenty-fifth was the birthday of the sun. They wrote that in gold letters in their calendar. Every year about that time, the middle of winter, the sun was born once more and it was going to put an end to the darkness and misery of winter. So they had a great feast, with presents and dolls for everybody, and the best day of all was December twenty-fifth. That feast, they would tell you, was thousands of years old- before Christ was ever heard of.

May this Soulful understanding of Christmas invite - the peace, harmony and serenity you deserve.

As Christmas draws near, let the words resonate — not just within your heart & mind, but Soul.

It's supposed to be jolly, with mistletoe and holly... and other things ending in olly.

Far too often, it is at the moment where we finally stand on the very precipice of some great thing that we turn and abandon it, for it is at these seminal moments that fear wins and greatness dies. The beauty of Christmas is that God steps over precipices.

You wanted a peaceful, comfortable Christmas, with all reminders of poverty, injustice, or other people's griefs well out of sight, so as not to disturb your pleasure. That isn't what Christmas is about, Wallace. Christmas is about offering hope to all people, not just those like ourselves. Christmas is about everyone: rich or poor, friend or stranger. The moment you exclude anyone, you exclude yourself.

Christmas ribbons decked every crystal ball knocker on every sparkling door as far as the eye could see. Through the snowy streets of the Veiled Village, Echoes and Sounds rushed to and fro, their shimmering clothes looking like pouring rain or ice or waves. Before them multi-colored parcels fluttered like strange birds carried on small see-through wings, and every once in a while two parcels would collide and rain down gifts.

Graciously honor the freedom at which Christmas so peacefully - came into being.

The Little Drummer Boy" was playing in the background for what seemed like the third time in a row. I fought off an urge to beat that Little Drummer Boy seneless with his own drumsticks.

He stood there tall and dashing, peering down at her with a set of mesmerizing sapphire eyes. It wasn’t the eyes that had her sex-drive squealing into overdrive; it was that…hair. Now, Tarrah had never really been into redheads before, but damn, she sure as hell would be willing to convert.

The Christmas tree, twinkling with lights, had a mountain of gifts piled up beneath it, like offerings to the great god of excess.

The city centre was still crawling with Christmas shoppers looking to add to their already burgeoning piles of gifts. To Scott they were like ants at a picnic, teeming from store to store, trailing oversized carrier bags and infants behind them as they went. Scott felt alien in this environment; pulling up his hood he hurried through the crowds, dodging pushchairs, lit cigarettes and charity collection tins.

And there it is! Bravo! I knew it was only a matter of time before Byron realized he had an audience. That man is simply incapable of keeping his shirt on when there are spectators. One Christmas Eve, he stripped his shirt off right in the middle of the choir's rendition of Oh Child of Bethlehem. Coincidentally, the next song was Come Let Us Adore Him and the imbecile actually launched into some interpretive dance.

I walked inside Macy’s and faced the pathetic spectacle of a department store full of shoppers, none of whom were shopping for themselves. Without the instant gratification of a self-aimed purchase, everyone walked around in the tactical stupor of the financially obligated.

Mistletoe," said Luna dreamily, pointing at a large clump of white berries placed almost over Harry's head. He jumped out from under it. "Good thinking," said Luna seriously. "It's often infested with nargles.

She may not be able to teach the baby how to cook, but she could teach the child how to shoot a gun and how to disarm a man when being attacked with a knife. You never knew when those things could come in handy.

Have a drink, Coughffles.” “Stop it with the names!” I laughed and coughed.

I knew that I had been partially right in the storeroom above the bar on Christmas Day. Whoever I had become had to die.

Christmas is about Christ. When we forget that, we lose the true magic of Christmas.

They shared an image of the American Christmas--riches, reconciliations, tears, snow, success, sentiment, furs and firs, the shop windows shining like Heaven and everything good for sale.

The greatest gift at Christmas is love. The love that bind us together us one Human Family.

Honor your joy today, whilst it replenishes and strengthens you - in the company of your Soul.

But Time and Tide and Buttered Eggs wait for no man.

The Soul's knowledge is lovingly gifted, just as you are presented with gifts - from those you love.

The three phases of Santa belief: (1) Santa is real.(2) Santa isn't real.(3) Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

Unless we make Christmas an occasion to share our blessings, all the snow in Alaska won't make it 'white'.

Maybe a holiday miracle will change Mearth’s awful behavior,” Mandy suggested with optimism.“The only holiday miracle around here is that Mearth hasn’t murdered us both yet,” said Alecto, lighting another cigarette, his hands shaking erratically. He looked exhausted and terrified, his gray eyes soulless.“Do you know what Mearth likes, Alecto?” Mandy questioned.“Vegetables, she likes celery a lot, and lettuce,” Alecto responded in a quiet monotone. “I don’t know what else she likes. I’ve never asked her.”“Well, she has to like something… doesn’t everyone?”“Not her, Mandy Valems.

Goodwill to all.' I know it's techinically 'goodwill to all men,' but in my mind, I drop the 'men' because that feels segregationist/elitist/sexist/generally bad ist. Goodwill shouldn't be just for men. It should also apply to women and children, and all animals, even the yucky ones like subway rats. I'd even extend the goodwill not just to living creatures but to the dearly departed, and if we include them, we might as well include the undead, those supposedly mythic beings like vampires, and if they're in, then so are elves, fairies, and gnomes. Heck, since we're already being so generous in our big group hug, why not also embrace those supposedly inanimate objects like dolls and stuffed animals. I'm sure Santa would agree. 'Goodwill to all.

Christmas is doing a little something extra for someone.

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour which is Christ the Lord.

It’s been my experience that most folk who ride trains could care less where they’re going. For them it’s the journey itself and the people they meet along the way. You see, at every stop this train makes, a little bit of America, a little bit of your country, gets on and says hello. That’s why trains are so popular at Christmas. People get on to meet their country over the holidays. They’re looking for some friendship, a warm body to talk to. People don’t rush on a train, because that’s not what trains are for. How do you put a dollar value on that? What accounting line does that go on?

Everyday should be Christmas. Christ first loved us, we ought to love one another.

Soulfully encouraged on Christmas day, to journey freely - toward your chosen goals.

Keeping Christ in Christmas" is like showing up at someone's house every year, insisting on a party they never planned and never agreed to.

All I want to do is be at Hogwarts with you, eating turkey legs in the great hall while listening to the carols of the ghosts gliding past us. Then maybe we can go to Hogsmeade to get a butterbeer.

Christmas is the gentlest, loveliest festival of the revolving year - and yet, for all that, when it speaks, its voice has strong authority.

When did wishing someone a Merry Christmas become politically incorrect?

Life is unfolding by each step you take - but, it is fulfilled by every choice you make.

New Year eve is an ecstasy of new anticipation.

The war on Christmas is waged of weakness and fed by vision blinded. It is a war of intellect blunted to stupidity and calling begging at the feet of cowardice.

May you can continue unhindered, by inviting immense clarity, prosperity and purpose - into your life.

A magic came out of your smileGold thread of gold threadStars illuminating the skyThereWhere in the mountain streamHealing waterTears of ice as a gift to me

There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say," returned the nephew. "Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round -- apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that -- as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, Uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!" Fred, A Christmas Carol.

You don't seem to understand," I whispered. "It's Christmas relationships that are worrying Carol and me so! It worries us dreadfully! Oh, of course we understand all about the Little Baby Christ! And the camels! And the wise men! And the frankincense! That's easy! But who is Santa Claus? Unless—unless—?" It was Carol himself who signaled me to go on. "Unless—he's the Baby Christ's grandfather?" I thought Derry Willard looked a little bit startled. Carol's ears turned bright red. "Oh, of course—we meant on his mother's side!" I hastened to assure him.