Short Christmas Greetings Quotes

In a season like this, I wouldn't be held by the snow. With all these feelings of bliss, I've to put aside my ego And step out to let you know, With you, I'm well pleased And the love you show, Is to me the bee's knees.

Delbert was the only Bumpus kid in my grade, but they infested Warren G. Harding like termites in an outhouse. There was Ima Jean, short and muscular, who was in the sixth grade, when she showed up, but spent most of her time hanging around the poolroom. There was a lanky, blue-jowled customer they called Jamie, who ran the still and was the only one who ever wore shoes. He and his brother Ace, who wore a brown fedora and blue work shirts, sat on the front steps at home on the Fourth of July, sucking at a jug and pretending to light sticks of dynamite with their cigars when little old ladies walked by. There were also several red-faced girls who spent most of their time dumping dishwater out of windows. Babies of various sizes and sexes crawled about the back yard, fraternizing indiscriminately with the livestock. They all wore limp, battleship-gray T-shirts and nothing else. They cried day and night. We thought that was all of them—until one day a truck stopped in front of the house and out stepped a girl who made Daisy Mae look like Little Orphan Annie. My father was sprinkling the lawn at the time; he wound up watering the windows. Ace and Emil came running out onto the porch, whooping and hollering. The girl carried a cardboard suitcase—in which she must have kept all her underwear, if she owned any—and wore her blonde hair piled high on her head; it gleamed in the midday sun. Her short muslin dress strained and bulged. The truck roared off. Ace rushed out to greet her, bellowing over his shoulder as he ran: “MAH GAWD! HEY, MAW, IT’S CASSIE! SHE’S HOME FROM THE REFORMATORY!” Emil

Alton opened the door to his apartment and shielded his eyes. The normally dark room was filled with bright light. Peeking through his fingertips he eventually saw that the light was actually made out of many smaller lights. He stepped inside and rubbed his eyes. A short robot ran to greet him. “Welcome home, Alton!” the small robot chimed. “Yeah, yeah. What's with all the lights,” Alton said tiredly. “I have decorated for Christmas!” Alton kicked off his shoes and shuffled further into the apartment. Strings of lights had been hung everywhere. They wrapped around the walls and draped across the ceiling. Any surface not covered in lights had been dressed up with garlands made of a shiny plastic that reflected the lights. Everything seemed to give off light. “Why have you decorated for Christmas?” asked Alton. The robot's head clicked as it formed an answer. “Because that is what you do on Christmas. You decorate your house. Do you not like it?” To be honest, Alton did not like it. He did