Everyone thinks of God as a man - you can't help it - Santa Claus was a man, therefore God has to be a man.
I thought you were all-seeing.” All-knowing, not all-seeing!” he snapped. “I’m a God, not Santa Claus!
In the far corner, a tenor began to sing, Zsadist's crystal-clear voice sailing up toward the warrior paintings on the ceiling far, far above them all. At first John didn't know what the song was...although if he'd been asked what his name was, he would have said Santa Claus, or Luther Vandross, or Teddy Roosevelt. Maybe even Joan Collins.
You remember when you were a kid growing up, and believed in Santa Claus? There's not much difference between Santa Claus and me today, you know. We're two overweight lovable guys that kids really enjoy.
Snowball just leads elves on, elves and Santas. He is playing a dangerous game.
We laughed about all the kids who believed in the Santa Clause myth and got nothing but a bunch of cheap plastic toys. 'Years from now, when all the junk they got is broken and long forgotten,' Dad said, ' you'll still have your stars.
We're going to start with the injury report, obviously. Manning, Clark, Addai, Reggie Wayne, Freeney, Mathis, Brackett - all those guys will not play. Oh, hold up. That was my wish list for Santa Claus.
If you really think there's a Santa, why don't you sit on the front steps all night in the freezing cold and see if he climbs down any chimneys tonight. Good luck. And since we're a family that isn't lucky enough to have a chimney, how would Santa get into our house? Does he bring a locksmith with him? And it probably would have to be a Jewish locksmith, because a Christian locksmith is going to want to be home with his family. And how many Jewish locksmiths are there? None.
After the week at the Fillmore we flew down to L.A. to hang out and pick up whatever gigs we could. We did a gig in Santa Barbara on July 1st and then the next night we opened for Sam & Dave at the Whisky.
A few moments later Mom opened my door and peered in at me. "Logan Hansen is here to see you." If it had been anyone else in the world, I would have told my mother to send him away. Santa Claus himself could have shown up to explain his whereabouts since my childhood, and I would have turned him out.
If you are clear where you are going and you take several steps in that direction every day, you eventually have to get there. If I head north out of Santa Barbara and take five steps a day, eventually I have to end up in San Francisco. So decide what you want, write it down, review it constantly, and each day do something that moves you toward those goals.
Today is [the feast of] Santa Rita, Patron Saint of impossible things - but this seems impossible: let us ask of her this grace, this grace that all, all, all people would do good and that we would encounter one another in this work, which is a work of creation, like the creation of the Father. A work of the family, because we are all children of God, all of us, all of us! And God loves us, all of us! May Santa Rita grant us this grace, which seems almost impossible. Amen.
Thirty years ago, my sister, Gale (so named because a gale hit Boston Harbor the night she was born), some friends and I stole a boat in the middle of the night and sailed it out of the Santa Barbara harbor. Suddenly we were becalmed and the current began pushing us toward the breakwall. With no running lights and no power, we were dead in the water. Out of that darkness a steel hull appeared: it was the local Coast Guard cutter. My father, stern-faced and displeased, stood in the bow.
Now that I can see it's the queen's new clothes Now that I can hear all your poison prose Now that I can talk with my tongue unfroze I'm not so sure of Santa or the buck tooth fairy There are no words for me inside your dictionary
I think one of the reasons we have children is to believe everything all over again. And I'm not talking Santa, here, either.
I am always amazed by the novel angles that people come up with for kids' Christmas books. Even if a family is not religious, who could resist, say, "Olive, the Other Reindeer," about Olive the dog who thinks the song refers to her and heads for the North Pole to help Santa out?
Santa blows all these shipping companies away. He delivers more than 2 billion packages in just 24 hours. He does it by sleigh. He doesn't use tracking numbers and doesn't use trucks. He just uses midgets and a giant bag.
Most of the holiday movies I enjoy, like 'It's a Wonderful Life,' don't really involve Santa.
I still believe in Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and true love. Don't even try to tell me different.
There are a few YouTube clips of me singing at The King's Head in Santa Monica, so you can see how bad I am.
I live in Santa Fe, New Mexico. And I travel a tremendous amount. I'm in New York and California a lot, but then also I like faraway places a lot.
You're either a rationalist, or you're not. And the good news is a recent poll found 20% of adults under 30 say they are rationalists, and have figured out that Santa Claus and Jesus are really the same guy. Now, 20% is hardly a majority. But it's a bigger minority than blacks, jews, homosexuals, NRA members, teachers, or seniors... and it's certainly enough to stop being shy about expressing the opinion that we're not the crazy ones!
Santa knows Physics: Of all colors, Red Light penetrates fog best. That's why Benny the Blue-nosed reindeer never got the gig.
Santa is a much bigger and more powerful faery than Toot, and I don't know his true name anyway. You'd never see me trying to nab Saint Nick in a magic circle even if I did. I don't think anyone has stones that big.
I don't really miss God but I sure miss Santa Claus!
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