Every Christmas Eve, the elves will come and give us a new pair of pajamas.
I need a long, cold winter.
I love London in the rare parts of the year when it's quiet, and no time is more reliably quiet than the week between Christmas and New Year.
I really want a Christmas in New York one year, when it's snowing. Like, it's Christmas morning, and you have a fight with someone, and you run down the street, and it's snowing, and you can't find them.
Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.
There's nothing like Christmas in New York.
Look up at the miracle of the falling snow,—the air a dizzy maze of whirling, eddying flakes, noiselessly transforming the world, the exquisite crystals dropping in ditch and gutter, and disguising in the same suit of spotless livery all objects upon which they fall.
You can't get too much winter in the winter.
I look forward to the holiday season every year.
I'm literally obsessed with Christmas, and it's been my dream ever since I was a little girl to make a Christmas album.
I think the coming of spring, the stars overhead, the first snowfall and so on are gifts for a child, a young poet.
Snow was falling, so much like stars filling the dak trees that one could easily imagine its reason for being was nothing more the prettiness.
I loved my time in Minnesota. I loved it so much that I lived up there until 1999.
Snow falling soundlessly in the middle of the night will always fill my heart with sweet clarity
I loved the first Christmas I had in England.
My Christmases have always just been very simple and about family.
Free the snow globes!
Not until I came to Canada did I realize that snow was a four-letter word.
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas With every Christmas card I write May your days be merry and bright And may all your Christmases be white.
The sensation reminds him of the first snow of winter, for those first few hours when everything is blanketed in white, soft and quiet.
I love Christmas, not just because of the presents but because of all the decorations and lights and the warmth of the season.
I wish i could press snowflakes in a book like flowers.
At night, lying on your back and staring at the falling snow, it's easy to imagine oneself soaring through the stars.
First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge.
Fine old Christmas, with the snowy hair and ruddy face, had done his duty that year in the noblest fashion, and had set off his rich gifts of warmth and color with all the heightening contrast of frost and snow.
