Best 1284 quotes in «christmas quotes» category

On most guys, Hale's smile would have looked sheepish. On him, it was so roguishly charming that Kat's heart actually skipped a beat.

Open your heart - stay in silence & let it be christmas, every day, in your life.

Ooh!” Willy pipes up. “Maybe he'll write a story about Santa and Mrs. Claus getting caught with their pants down with other people. If we get lucky, maybe he'll kill-” “Don't finish that sentence, elf.” “Randy, you're such a spoilsport. You can't say you haven't conjured up that scenario in your big head a time or a dozen. Continue. Maybe I'll write that story.” “No, you won't. Your idea of a good story is nothing but sex, sex, and more sex. You'd never make it through writing a chapter because you'd have to stop and jerk off a half dozen times.” “Ew! Not about Santa and Mrs. Claus. Yuck,” Willy comes back at him with a sour look on his face. “That's not even funny, Randy.

Ouch. What is that?” “Water, you wimp.” Humor colored his tone and when I looked up, he was smirking again, but this time it was different. He was beaming, radiating—like he used to.

Pack or clan, they took care of each other.

On the day after Christmas, some store or another will always take out and ad saying there are only 364 shopping days to Christmas. No one is amused.

Patsy had asked him if he had had adventures in Paris and he had truthfully answered no. It was a fact that he had done nothing; his father thought he had had a devil of a time and was afraid he had contracted a venereal disease, and he hadn't even had a woman; only one thing had happened to him, it was rather curious when you came to think of it, and he didn't just then quite know what to do about it: the bottom had fallen out of his world.

Paying twenty-five dollars for me was your mistake, ma’am. I’m not worth more than fifteen.

Peace be with you, when lights dance to the sound of Christmas bells - and the whole world breathe in silence.

People celebrate you once a year and then they forget about you. It’s like you’re a story in a book and once the story has been read, the words disappear with the closing of the book until another year jogs their memory and they remember you existed. I only existed when people noticed me at Christmas, especially the kids. You’d think that was the only reason I existed. It’s like I had no other purpose. They didn’t even know my name. Who gets to decide my fate for me? I do have a free will you know,” said Ahimsa continuing his rant.

People think the only time the earth is renewed is in spring. I find it’s renewed around Christmastime when hard, old hearts are softened. When children’s laughter drowns out anguish. When magic transforms the dull into something beautiful and sparkly. I find that Christmas time changes me … from the inside out, and even for a moment fills me with youth and hope again.

Pepe absently thought, happy beyond words that he was actually holding hands with Lucia. Passing a stall with a particularly pungent odor of manure made Pepe falter, realizing a barn wasn't the most romantic place to propose. Then he remembered the Savior born on this very night so long ago, and he figured if God could choose a stable for such an important miracle, he could too.

Peppermint Whiskey? Hell, reindeer, keep up this niceness and I may have to take ya back home with us.” I lean close to him and whisper loudly, “You've already got a reindeer. You couldn't handle two of us.” He pours himself a shot before responding. “Ha! You obviously didn't know my rep in the North Pole before Randy or you'd never make such a ludicrous statement.

President Coolidge's Christmas message is published in newspapers across the country: 'Christmas is not a time or a season but a state of mind. To cherish peace and good will, to be plenteous in mercy, is to have the real spirit of Christmas.

Quietly, almost a breath, an angel touched you by the hand - and your heart, he made it shine, in the times of hope.

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

Reading is one of the best ways to bond with your child. Bond this Christmas with “It’s Not About You, Mr. Santa Claus

Real ballplayers pass the stuffing by rolling it up in a ball and batting it across the table with a turkey leg.

Remember, if Christmas isn't found in your heart, you won't find it under a tree.

Residents of the squatter community of Christiana, Denmark, for example, have a Christmastide ritual where they dress in Santa suits, take toys from department stores and distribute them to children on the street, partly just so everyone can relish the images of the cops beating down Santa and snatching the toys back from crying children.

Santa was dead, to begin with. There was no doubt whatsoever about that. The after-action report was signed by the field commander, the director of operations, the secretary of the Office of Sidhe Affairs, and the chief battle-mage. Janus had signed it — and Janus’s word could be counted upon for anything he chose to put his name to. Old Saint Nicholas, the Sidhe Lord of the Yuletide, was as dead as a door-nail. It didn’t stick.

Santa is like a queen bee. All the elves are his drones, who exist to feed him royal jelly, which I guess would be milk and cookies. If an elf escapes and eats royal cookies, it will turn into another Santa. That’s what all those mall Santas are. They’re trying to start their own festive colonies.

Say what's in your heart, Annie.' 'You're in my heart, Samuel.

Seeing is believing, but sometimes the most real things in the world are the things we can't see.

She blinked once, then twice, and yet again, sure what she viewed was just another part of this fantasy world that she had stepped into when her feet touched the green grass of Ireland.

Osaka: Ah Get to ponderin' when Christmas rolls around. Y'all know Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer? That's messed up, y'know? Saying his nose will help light the way at night ain't no way t'make him feel better about it. If you told a bald fella you needed the light reflecting off his head to see, he'd like to punch you. Santa's a cruel bully.

Reluctantly, he put his hand up to the cold glass. That odd tingling sensation raced through his body again. His ears began to hum and his head felt strange and heavy. Beneath his touch, the glass seemed to soften and his fingers made small indentions in the surface. ~ "The Mirror

She finally took her first good look at the guy beside her. Kerri's eyes widened...because she could see right through him, all the way to the nineteen-foot Christmas tree on the other end of the brightly-lit mall. "You're a ghost!

She dug into one of the boxes, finding clay angels she’d made in art class when she was seven years old. She found plastic swans on strings and red crystal cardinals. She found a blue-and-white rocking horse covered in glitter. She found a porcelain Santa Claus. She found that she couldn’t figure out where the hell time had gone.

She felt like a woman on fire. Would it be bad to have sex with Santa in the closet?

She gritted her teeth. The man dances like a clod. I’d rather dance with Mr Jenkins, who can barely move.

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.

She remembered dating. She remembered feeling excited and reveling in the unknown. Dating was like hopscotch for giants. An adult game that made the heart jump instead of the feet. A game she used to enjoy.

She couldn’t run away from him. She’d be running from her own heart.

She couldn't promise Chandler Caillou more than she was willing to give.

She told me that love has a magic all its own.

She sighed and stepped out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her. Turning around, she nearly tripped over some of the help. “Man, you little bastards are everywhere, aren’t you?” she mumbled to herself.

She stared at the castle. She had actually been summoned to a castle. A week before Christmas.

She was very pretty: exceedingly pretty. With a dimpled, surprised-looking, capital face; a ripe little mouth, that seemed made to be kissed — as no doubt it was; all kinds of good little dots about her chin, that melted into one another when she laughed; and the sunniest pair of eyes you ever saw in any little creature's head. Altogether she was what you would have called provoking, you know; but satisfactory, too. Oh, perfectly satisfactory.

She was the sort of woman men wanted to help. Not the sort they wanted to help themselves to…

She was an exotic flower amongst the snowdrifts, out of place, a Technicolor misfit in a monochrome Christmas movie.

Sierra, it's Christmastime. Put a stupid mistletoe over his head and kiss him already!

She was what made Christmas feel like home.

She was so busy doing Christmas, there wasn't time to experience Christmas.

Small unexpected acts of kindness are the building blocks of greatness. Start your day with a smile and see where it takes you ...

Sometimes, crazy is exactly what we need.

Sir, I’ve known him ever since he was born! We’ve played snowball, and built snow-houses together, which are called igloos, and once, when one of Santa’s reindeer was sick on Christmas Eve, Snow Bear stepped in to help with the presents, and load them on the sleigh - he’s very kind, and clever, and strong, you know.

Snow was the most beautiful thing Amitola had ever seen. It fell so gracefully and drizzled her skin like a cold whisper.

Sometimes we're born into situations, he'd said. We have to decide if we're gonna be a part of it or if we're gonna put an end to it.

Sometimes in the company of others I find a disagreeable spirit of competitiveness kicks in and each person is shamed into spending rather more than he would have wished. This is a historically established syndrome, of course. One Magus going to Bethlehem would probably have sprung for a box of After Eights. Three Magi on the same trip found themselves laden with gold, frankincense and myrrh and bitterly comtemplating their overdrafts.