Grinch Christmas Quotes

Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before! What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!

And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.

He took the Who’s feast, he took the Who pudding, he took the roast beast. He cleaned out that ice box as quick as a flash. Why, the Grinch even took their last can of Who hash.

Maybe Christmas, the Grinch thought, doesn't come from a store.

And he, he himself...the Grinch...carved the roast-beast!

And what happened then? Well, in Whoville they say that the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day

Theresa strode over to us in a swish of cloth. "Enough of this, animator. He can't do it, so he pays the price. Either leave now, or join us at our...feast." Are you having rare Who-roast-beast?" I asked. What are you talking about?" It's from Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas. You know the part, 'And they'd Feast! Feast! Feast! Feast! Feast! They would feast on Who-pudding and rare Who-roast-beast.'" You are crazy." So I've been told.

Pop guns! And bicycles! Roller skates! Drums! Checkerboards! Tricycles! Popcorn! And plums! And he stuffed them in bags. Then the Grinch, very nimbly, Stuffed all the bags, one by one, up the chimbley!

The Grinch hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season! Now, please don’t ask why. No one quite knows the reason. It could be his head wasn’t screwed on just right. It could be, perhaps his shoes were too tight. But I think that the most likely reason of all May have been that his heart was two sizes too small.

This boy turkied my Thanksgiving, but I won't let him Grinch my Christmas. -Dean Hughes (Midway to Heaven)

He grinned, a very dark and evil grin… the kind of grin that the Grinch had before he stole Christmas.

Don't look at me like that," said Guy. "How am I looking at you?" I asked. "Like I'm the Grinch who stole Christmas.

Every Who down in Who-ville, the tall and the small, Was singing! Without any presents at all! He HADN'T stopped Christmas from coming! IT CAME! Somehow or other, it came just the same! And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow, Stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? 'It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes or bags!' And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before!

... And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore

And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.

Whatever the Grinch can steal, it's not Christmas.

The Grinch says leave!

There could be no half-measures, Nothing half-done, Oh, stopping Christmas would be so much fun!

I was born with a heart that was two sizes too small, but when I saw my baby, it was like the Grinch discovering the true meaning of Christmas.

There is no more dangerous or disgusting habit than that of celebrating Christmas before it comes.

Christmas doesn't feel like a holiday anymore. It feels more like a mainstream obligation to buy things for people most likely to buy us things, so we're not embarrassed by the perception of not caring for them. It's a product marketing season that starts earlier every year, replacing Halloween candy on the store shelves with Santa Claus. It's the most insufferable time of the year.

It isn’t your fault I’m more thoughtful than you. Don’t worry about it.” “Just open the damn presents before I cancel Christmas altogether.” “Okay, Grinch.

Do you remember in How the Grinch Stole Christmas! when the Grinch is alone on the mountain after plundering the Christmas of the Whos down below, and his heart swells to three times its normal size? That's the other thing that happens when you become a mom. You feel more deeply. You become capable of a raw, scary fullness of emotion that tenderizes the hardened muscle of the heart. And it endangers you. Because you feel for other people's suffering more than you used to, especially for the suffering of children, as if the love you bear for your child is so outsized that it can't be contained but splashes out into the world, your salty tears brimming the salty oceans.

This is Christmas,” he says, pointing at the happy line of Whos. “Remember? Friends and family gathered together, celebrating. Not presents, not piñatas, people.” “I know, but—” “Whatever the Grinch can steal, that’s not Christmas,” asserts Luke.

So, we’ve got a problem,” I said. “What?” Lend yelled. “We’ve got a problem!” I shouted. “No, I heard that. I mean, what’s the problem now?” “I have the solution!” Jack interrupted. “What?” I sat up, all ears. “Bells!” “What?” Lend and I asked at the same time. “Get her a kitty collar with bells on it. That way you can hear her coming and get someplace where you won’t be hurt by collapsing immediately into sleep.” There was a thumping noise, followed by an indignant “Ow!” from Jack. “The problem,” I said, “is that Raquel is going on trial with IPCA and I am not about to let them lock her up forever.” She was my Raquel. How dare they. My fear was quickly shifting to anger. Tasing me was one thing. But if they thought they could get away with persecuting the very best person they’d ever had working for them, they had another think coming. “Where?” Jack asked. “At the Center,” David answered, coming down the stairs, but he was cut off by Lend snapping, “You aren’t involved in this, Jack.” “Oh, I think you want me involved. I believe I’m the only one here who has ever been to a disciplinary hearing. Five, actually. I was shooting for my lucky number seven, but alas, IPCA and I parted ways too soon.” That settled it. A cheery band we’d make, no doubt. I’d been looking forward to starting some new Christmas traditions this year. Simple things. Reading the Grinch. Decorating a tree. Making cookies. Storming the Center to rescue the closest person I’d ever had to a mom. The usual holiday fare. Merry freaking Christmas.

Kelsey flopped next to him, propping her elbow on the back of the couch so she was facing him. "Do you have something against happiness?" "Yes. Don't tell anyone, but I moonlight as the Grinch.

May Santa bring you lots of chocolate and cookies, and may the Grinch steal all the calories from them.

A well-dressed, sexy combination of Scrooge and the Grinch. By the looks of your minimally wrinkled face, you're not a huge fan of smiling.

What brings Christmas to a standstill? The whispers of a grinch behind closed doors.

since the accident. I don’t know what her problem was. After all, I was a “hero.” At least the newspaper said so. “Hey, Alex,” she said, twirling her ponytail with her pencil. “Oh, hi,” I stammered, looking down at my burger. “You guys sounded really great in the talent show. I didn’t know you could sing like that.” “Uhh, thanks. It must be all the practice I get with my karaoke machine.” Oh God, did I just tell her I sing karaoke? Definitely not playing it cool, I thought to myself. TJ butted in, “Yeah, Small Fry was ok, but I really carried the show with my awesome guitar solo.” He smiled proudly. “Shut up, TJ,” I said, tossing a fry at him, which hit him between the eyes. “Hey, watch it, Baker. Just because you’re a ‘hero’ doesn’t mean I won’t pummel you.” “Yeah, right,” I said, smiling. Emily laughed. “Maybe we could come over during Christmas break and check out your karaoke machine. Right, Danielle?” Danielle rolled her eyes and sighed. “Yeah, whatever.” I gulped. “Uhhh…yeah…that sounds great.” “Ok, give me your hand,” she said. “My hand,” I asked, surprised. “Yep,” she said, grabbing my wrist and opening my palm. “Here’s my number,” she said, writing the numbers 585-2281 in gold glitter pen on my palm.” I will never wash my hand again, I thought to myself. “Text me over break, ok?” she said, smiling brightly. “Yeah, sure,” I nodded, as she walked away giggling with Danielle. “Merry Christmas to me!” I whispered to TJ and Simon. “Yeah, there’s just one problem, Dufus,” TJ said. “Oh yeah, what’s that, TJ? That she didn’t give you her number?” I asked. “No, Dork. How are you going to text her if you don’t have a cell phone?” He smiled. “Oh, right,” I said, slumping down in my seat. “That could be a problem.” “You could just call her on your home phone,” Simon suggested, wiping his nose with a napkin. “Yeah, sure,” TJ chuckled. “Hi Emily, this is Alex Baker calling from the year 1984.” He held his pencil to his ear like a phone.  “Would you like to come over to play Atari? Then maybe we can solve my Rubik’s Cube while we break dance ….and listen to New Kids on the Block.” He was cracking himself up and turning bright red. “Maybe I’ll type you a love letter on my typewriter. It’s so much cooler than texting.” “Shut up, TJ,” I said, smiling. “I’m starting to remember why I didn’t like you much at the beginning of the year.” “Lighten up, Baker. I’m just bustin’ your chops. Christmas is coming. Maybe Santa will feel sorry for your dorky butt and bring you a cell phone.” Chapter 2 ePhone Denied When I got home from school that day, it was the perfect time to launch my cell phone campaign. Mom was in full Christmas mode. The house smelled like gingerbread. She had put up the tree and there were boxes of ornaments and decorations on the floor. I stepped over a wreath and walked into the kitchen. She was baking sugar cookies and dancing around the kitchen to Jingle Bell Rock with my little brother Dylan. My mom twirled Dylan around and smiled. She was wearing the Grinch apron that we had given her last Christmas. Dylan was wearing a Santa hat, a fake beard, and of course- his Batman cape. Batman Claus. “Hey Honey. How was school?” she asked, giving Dylan one more spin. “It was pretty good. We won second place in the talent show.” I held up the candy cane shaped award that Ms. Riley had given us. “Great job! You and TJ deserved it. You practiced hard and it payed off.” “Yeah, I guess so,” I said, grabbing a snicker-doodle off the counter. “And now it’s Christmas break! I bet your excited.” She took a tray of cookies out of the oven and placed

Since Lou was responsible for decorating some of the most prominent spots in town, I understood why he was so upset. “Do you have any idea who’s behind it?” “I can’t imagine who’d be such a Grinch. You have to help me find the thief before my whole holiday decorating business is destroyed.

Christmas should not be treated by us as the “denial season.” One of the reasons why so many families have so many tangles and scenes during the “holidays” is that everybody expects sentimentalism to fix everything magically. But Christmas is not a “trouble-free” season. We want the scrooges and grinches in our lives to be transformed by gentle snowfall, silver bells, beautifully arranged evergreens, hot cider, and carols being sung in the middle distance. But what happens when you gather together with a bunch of other sinners, and all of them have artificially inflated expectations? What could go wrong? When confronted with the message of sentimentalism, we really do need somebody who will say, “Bah, humbug.

I’ve considered that maybe I’m broken inside. Maybe my heart doesn’t work, or it’s very small like that green asshole in the Christmas movie. Jim Carey played him… The Grinch! Thank you. That was gonna drive me crazy.

Chuckling, he continues, “Now, back to my research about Sherry. She’s a fan of dogs, one of her favorite movies is The Grinch, and most importantly, she’s a secret fan of Thunder Down Under.

The tree screamed Jingle Bells and the snow whispered Silent Night, but for the first time in her life she felt strangely Grinch-like.

The pug owner continued, “Not to be a Grinch, I only ask because I’d forgotten how much work dogs are. They have to be walked several times a day, and it’s holy murder crawling out of bed early on a dark winter morning to take Poppy out. But she yips and yaps and scratches at the bed until I do. Then there’s the matter of chewing. I can’t tell you how many leather shoes Poppy’s ruined. And she’s not even a big dog, certainly not one of those eternally hungry dogs like yellow Labs who will eat anything, even the contents of wastebaskets, no matter how much you feed them.

But his most lasting influence grew out of his singular knack for making reading fun for children in such international favorites as The Cat in the Hat, Green Eggs and Ham, Hop on Pop, and How the Grinch Stole Christmas. All were made more appealing by his repetitive use of simple language and his outrageous illustrations. Incidentally, although we have become accustomed to pronouncing his name rhyming with “Juice,” his stated preference was more Germanic: “Seuss—rhymes with voice.

Vivi held up the front page of the New York Times, pointing out the headline: 'The Grinch Who Killed Christmas.' "Way to go, Grinch,

No more scowling as your default expression. Your face is close to freezing that way, and I’d rather not wake up to the Grinch for the rest of my life.” “I’m much better looking than the Grinch,” he grumbled. “And if people stopped pissing me off, I wouldn’t scowl so much.” “Other people aren’t the problem. Remember when we passed by a dog park around Christmas and saw those adorable huskies? You glared at them so hard they started howling.” “I wasn’t glaring at them,” he said impatiently. “I was glaring at their outfits. Who dresses their dogs up as reindeer? It’s ridiculous.” “It was Christmas. At least they weren’t dressed as elves.

You want me to un-Grinch you?’ He starts singing, ‘Un-Grinch my heart,’ to the tune of the Toni Braxton classic “Unbreak My Heart”. ‘Say you’ll mistletoe me again.

A Christmas Without Mistletoe by Stewart Stafford What a holiday season! No deliveries of mistletoe, Could it be a Grinch-like, Cancel culture embargo? At the rate we're going, We'll have no chance to kiss, Can the Scrooge supply chain, Find salvation after Christmas? So save up your kisses, Dampen down your ardour, And maybe we can smooch, In January's restocked larder. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.

August was likely a sociopath, his heart having grown three sizes too small, like some Grinch intent on stealing lives, rather than Christmas.

Sending the Christmas hating Grinch to Vogue Magazine’s Prettiest Place for Christmas was one thing. But this was a hundred times worse for me, because there was only one orphanage in Northland… and it was the one I’d grown up in. Fuck that. No way in hell I’ll be going home for Christmas. Not this year, not any year.

I am Betty Lou Who from The Grinch who secretly wants to compete with her neighbours in the Christmas decoration stakes.

You know Scrooge and the Grinch like Christmas at the end of the story, right?

The Grinch felt a SHOCK as his heart turned ice-cold. He felt it start SHRINKING! And so it is told, That there, in the square, all the Whos who were near it, Are certain they saw it and sure they could hear it...The moment the Grinch lost his Christmassy spirit. His arms started itching. His legs started twitching. Then both of his eyes started twitching and itching. And that Christmas-filled heart? Well, it... SHRINK, SHRANK, SHRUNK down. "I've been ROBBED!" the Grinch snarled. "And I'm THROUGH with this town!" The Grinch stuffed his tree in his ramshackle sleigh. Then he lugged it and tugged it and hauled it away. As Max tried his hardest to get him to stay.

spent the evening letting Emily call the shots for what she called “a normal Christmas Eve” night—doing everything from drinking eggnog and eating snack food to watching, of course, How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Finally they hung up Emily’s Christmas stocking—a gift that Joy had tucked in one of her magical bins. Marcus hung it on the far edge of the fireplace to prevent the big crackling fire from scorching it.

He felt like the Grinch after stealing all the presents. The Whos down in Whoville really didn’t need the trappings of Christmas to celebrate the season. They were happy anyway, and so was she.

I think Fox was paying him about a million bucks a year, and he had created the Ice Age franchise for them, which was billions of dollars of value. I said, “Here’s how we’re going to negotiate with Fox. On a separate track, we’re going to create a company that you’re going to run. We’re going to get off-balance-sheet financing and we’re going to align you with another global distributor.” At the time we had at least three studios that would be great strategic fits. But he didn’t want to be an employee, he wanted real ownership. So we created parallel paths. On one track was the Fox negotiation, which I told him would take a year, and they would give him a 15 percent increase. They would grind it out and play hardball. I told him, “At the end of the day, they’re not going to pay you anywhere near what you’re worth. But on this other track, we’ll create this opportunity to change your life, for you to have something of your own.” I remember having a meeting with Mark Shmuger and David Linde, who were literally in the first day of their new jobs as co-chairmen of Universal Studios, and Bryan, Richard, Kevin, and I met with them in their first official meeting and I pitched them the idea of being in business with Chris, and they said, “Yes. We want you to do it.” It took probably well over a year, but ultimately we created Illumination. Universal came in and financed the company 100 percent. They wanted to clean up their balance sheet because they were about to sell to Comcast, so we got paid an investment banking fee for $ 4 or $ 5 million, and then on top of that we’ve commissioned every movie that Chris has done. Chris got a very, very, rich deal, probably the best producing deal there is. The truth is, on Minions he’ll probably make $ 80–$ 90 million. To date he’s probably made hundreds of millions. And he’s got Despicable Me 3, and The Grinch Who Stole Christmas.

felt like the Grinch after stealing all the presents. The Whos down in Whoville really didn’t need the trappings of Christmas to celebrate the season. They were happy anyway, and so was she.

For the romance readers who crave a bit of darkness this holiday season. The Grinch snuck into people’s homes to steal Christmas cheer. Saint’s gonna sneak into yours to steal you… Ho, Ho, Ho, Merry Christmas…lock your windows. Or don’t. No one’s judging.

Your resting Grinch Face is showing, Liv." I chuckle. "And your Holly Jolly Weirdo Face is showing, Marino.

Don't get me wrong. I'm no Grinch. I just don't understand why people can't be jolly all year round instead of saving it for when the advertising companies say they should be happy spending all their hard-earned money on shit no one wants.

Fine,” I say. “Tomorrow night after we watch The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, you can be the Bookie Who Stole Violet’s Butt Virginity.