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Santa Quotes

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Santa Quotes

“It is often argued that religion is valuable because it makes men good, but even if this were true it would not be a proof that religion is true. That would be an extension of pragmatism beyond endurance. Santa Claus makes children good in precisely the same way, and yet no one would argue seriously that the fact proves his existence. The defense of religion is full of such logical imbecilities. The theologians, taking one with another, are adept logicians, but every now and then they have to resort to sophistries so obvious that their whole case takes on an air of the ridiculous. Even the most logical religion starts out with patently false assumptions. It is often argued in support of this or that one that men are so devoted to it that they are willing to die for it. That, of course, is as silly as the Santa Claus proof. Other men are just as devoted to manifestly false religions, and just as willing to die for them. Every theologian spends a large part of his time and energy trying to prove that religions for which multitudes of honest men have fought and died are false, wicked, and against God.”

“And if I said "because I'm a witch," they'd think I was crazy.' 'That's exactly right,' she confirmed. 'Because everybody knows witches aren't real.' She nodded. 'Yes.' 'Except they really are real.' She continued nodding. 'Mm-hmm.' 'But you also told me Santa and the tooth fairy were real.' 'Those were lies,' she said. 'But they're lies every parent tells their children. So they're not really lies so much as a script.' 'I slept with teeth under my pillow, so it seems like a lie to me.”

“A theist can't empirically prove that God exists but he believes in God because no one can allegedly disprove God's existence. By his logic, you must believe in anything you can't disprove. That means all things are real until disproved--including the tooth fairy, the Loch Ness Monster, Santa Claus, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, etc.”

“So you say there is no Father Christmas,                                                                          You say there is no Santa Claus                                                                                         Reindeer cannot fly, it's all a grown-up lie...”

“My dad's boss hosted a Christmas event at his house. Gathering for food and drink. Presents for the kids. A smoking Santa passed out gifts. My box was huge. An electric race track. I had never had a present that nice. But there had been a mistake. Santa took my race track. Handed it to another kid. Gave me a box of books. And said it was the right gift for me.”

“Meet Me In Toyland by Stewart Stafford Santa handed me the keys to Toyland, And, placing them squarely in the palm of my hand, He bid me go and have lots of fun, With all kinds of everyone. I skipped across the gingerbread bridge, Yuletide coffee flowing down from the ridge, To a Christmas tree consisting of mint, Lit all around by falling star glint. At the frosting gates of Castle St Nicholas, Silver snake tinsel began to hiss, As polar bears to a clockwork orchestra danced, With elves as their partners gleefully entranced. Multitudes of children whooped and cheered, Forgetting all their doubts and fears, Celebrating their gifts of toys, With every kind of girl and boy. Alas, our midwinter joy came to an end, And I tearfully bid adieu to all my new friends, And took a shooting star comet home, Across the Northern Lights in the sky’s dome. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

“Children!' Santa said with a smile. 'Children?' William said. 'Children aren't magic. I'm a child and I'm not magic at all!' All the elves giggled and Santa smiled knowingly. 'Oh, but you are! You really, truly are. You just don't know it! You can create impossible worlds in your imagination that don't really exist. That is magic. Because you can only see the best in people, the best in the world, in life. That is magic. Because you understand the importance of silliness, the importance of fun, of laughing and playing, which grown-ups have forgotten. That is magic. But, most of all, because you believe, without question, in the impossible. Without needing proof. Without hesitation. That is magic.' William couldn't believe what he was hearing. He could do all those things and he hadn't even realized that they were magic!”

“I was afraid of anyone in a costume. A trip to see Santa might as well have been a trip to sit on Hitler's lap for all the trauma it would cause me. Once, when I was four, my mother and I were in a Sears and someone wearing an enormous Easter Bunny costume headed my way to present me with a chocolate Easter egg. I was petrified by this nightmarish six-foot-tall bipedal pink fake-fur monster with human-sized arms and legs and a soulless, impassive face heading toward me. It waved halfheartedly as it held a piece of candy out in an evil attempt to lure me into its clutches. Fearing for my life, I pulled open the bottom drawer of a display case and stuck my head inside, the same way an ostrich buries its head in the sand. This caused much hilarity among the surrounding adults, and the chorus of grown-up laughter I heard echoing from within that drawer only added to the horror of the moment. Over the next several years, I would run away in terror from a guy in a gorilla suit whose job it was to wave customers into a car wash, a giant Uncle Sam on stilts, a midget dressed like a leprechaun, an astronaut, the Detroit Tigers mascot, Ronald McDonald, Big Bird, Bozo the Clown, and every Mickey Mouse, Minnie Mouse, Donald Duck, Pluto, Chip and Dale, Uncle Scrooge, and Goofy who walked the streets at Disneyland. Add to this an irrational fear of small dogs that saw me on more than one occasion fleeing in terror from our neighbor's four-inch-high miniature dachschund as if I were being chased by the Hound of the Baskervilles and a chronic case of germ phobia, and it's pretty apparent that I was--what some of the less politically correct among us might call--a first-class pussy.”

“As a young child I had Santa and Jesus all mixed up. I could identify Coke or Pepsi with just one sip, but I could not tell you for sure why they strapped Santa to a cross. Had he missed a house? Had a good little girl somewhere in the world not received the doll he’d promised her, making the father angry?” (p.3)”

“Would people please stop telling me Santa Claus doesn't exist? I met him when I was a kid, surrounded by teenaged elves n stuff, one of them had a camera, and he was fun and smelt of fags n beer, I remember his big red nose too, even the hairs in his nostrils. You see I met him, sat on his lap chatted and he gave me a toy car, n yeah it was in a market, but I know he was the real Santa........”

“Harper?” Cash murmured after a long moment. “Hmm?” I turned my head. “Do you believe in Santa?” I shifted onto my side to look at him, smiling. “Yeah, I do.” He adjusted his head to look at me. “Even though he’s something our parents say isn’t real?” I nodded. “Yeah, definitely. There’s usually some kind of truth behind stories.” He looked up to the tree then to me. “Think we can see him tonight?” I laughed and sat up. “Who? Santa? Why not? It couldn’t hurt to try.”

“The reindeer are immortal. They are, in fact, the eight demiurges of reindeer-kind, and this accounts for their flying. Their names might sound whimsical, but they are the closest the human tongue can come to approximating the true names of the caribou lords. Rudolph, far from being the adorable, earnest fellow of the tale, is in fact Ruyd-al-Olafforid, the All-Destroying Flame of the Yukon. His mother was Kali and his father was an ice floe. His nose appears red because his body is full of coals, and his eyes flare with a terrible conflagration of the soul. The tips of his antlers are like candles in the snowy wind. He is not vengeful, but he is the light in the dark of winter, consuming and giving life at the same time. Your carrots only make the lord of flame stronger.”

“One thing I learned over the years is that you have to love wholeheartedly when your loved ones are with you. I loved my parents. I still miss them every day of my life, and they’ve been gone for centuries. One thing they taught me is when you love, you love hard. You carry that with you always, even when the ones you love are no longer in this world. I don’t think I truly appreciated that until Dylan came into my world, and then you, but that’s two different types of love.”

“You are everything I’ve ever hoped for, Drew, more than I ever believed I could hope for.” I reach up and wipe a tear that’s slowly making its way down his cheek. “I thought I knew what love was. I was wrong. Only when you came into my life did I truly understand it, feel it. Thank you for giving me something I’ve always longed for.” “What is that, Santa?” “Forever.”

“There are four kinds of people in the world: Those who want to profit off others without changing anything. Those who want to profit off others and would try to improve the world in so doing. Those who want to profit off of others and are willing to destroy the world to do so and finally those who don’t care to profit off others and are the inevitable victims of the other three. The trick is to know which one of these people you are.”