Christmas Wish List Quotes

I’m so glad I put a hot, naked guy on my Christmas wish list. I just didn’t think Santa would actually deliver one.

A wish is many things. It is hope and desire and daydreams. It is impossibility and improbability and something in between. It is stardust and well water and spectrums of light in the sky. It is half-melted birthday candles and Christmas lists. It is broken turkey bones, It is the willing suspension of disbelief. And sometimes it is desperation. It is a hole in your heart that wants filling. It is more-than-anything-in-the-world.

You just let that pretty filly go?” Vim looked up, and Rothgreb could see him trying to balance respect for his elder with the urge to throttle an interfering old busybody. “She refused my suit on more than one occasion, Uncle. I don’t suppose you’ve made a list of all the things that have gone missing?” “Refused your suit! Did you go down on bended knee? Shower her with compliments and pretty baubles? Did you slay dragons for her and ride through drenching thunderstorms?” “I changed dirty nappies for her, got up and down all night with the child, and offered her the rest of my life.” “Dirty nappies? Bah! In my day, we knew how to court a woman.” This provoked a sardonic smile. “In your day, you married for convenience and were free to chase any panniered skirt that caught your eye.” “Little you know.” Rothgreb tossed his spectacles on the desk. “Your aunt would have had my parts fed to the hogs if I’d done more than the requisite flirting with the dowagers. And she knew better than to share her favors elsewhere too, b’gad.” “About

At the beginning of the month I wrote a letter to Santa—I know, childish—but I needed something to hope for, even if it felt silly.” He smiled and shifted to sit by my side, winding his arm around my wait. “Wishing and hoping is never silly, Harper,” he whispered, nipping my jaw. I leaned into his hold and twined our fingers. “I had two things on it: you, and to be accepted.” I stared at the black ink marking my letter in my messy handwriting. He pressed his forehead against my temple. “You were on mine too, only, I didn’t send it to Santa.

The road to finding yourself isn’t always paved perfectly.

The holiday was different this year. People’s hearts were heavy and their celebrations small. Families were separated, and as a result, the Christmas wishes made were not rooted in vengeance and retribution, leading to his own unfortunate reversal of fortune and no promise things would improve next year.

A Christmas Truce What would I like for Christmas? A close friend wants to know. Perfume? A clock? A spa day? Some tickets for a show? ‘I need ideas by Monday,’ She huffs, as if I’m not Sufficiently respectful Of her present-buying slot, Which will expire by Tuesday, Her harried tone implies. Art books? Posh wine? New teapot? Brainstorm! Prioritise! What do I want for Christmas? I want you not to ask. I’d rather get no gifts at all Than be assigned the task Of emailing a wish list (One I must first create) To all my friends and family Before a certain date. Can I propose a Christmas truce To make my dreams come true? Create no work for me and I’ll Create no work for you. I’ve got enough possessions – Shoes, coats, a diamond ring – I want not to be asked to do A time-consuming thing. Yes, that’s a proper present – Abstract, but no less real. What do you mean it seems as if I don’t care how you feel? ALL RIGHT! I’ll have a teapot. What? Then wrap it in a fleece. Yes, I will ring to say it got here Safely, in one piece.

Beginnings and endings are all right, but it’s what happens in between that really counts, isn’t it

There’s no right or wrong way, and you need to go at your pace. All that gay shit you see on Instagram is fake and unrealistic, and don’t even get me started on porn.

Between one heartbeat and the next, Jenny realized Elijah Harrison knew a great deal that she wished she could learn from him. He’d travel on in the morning, but for as much as the next hour, she could interrogate him to her heart’s content. He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he put bread, cheese, and some apple slices on a plate and held it out to her. His gaze held a challenge. Over a simple meal? Abruptly, Jenny wondered if he’d recognized her. She took the plate and tossed her list of questions aside. ***

Sensible. He’d said she was sensible. Not lovely, intelligent, dear, attractive, or capable of mad, passionate love. Not even an adequate cook, for goodness sake. Sensible. She added Vim to the list of men narrowly escaping bodily injury. “I