Quotes About Thanksgiving

The truth is the Super Bowl long ago became more than just a football game. It's part of our culture like turkey at Thanksgiving and lights at Christmas, and like those holidays beyond their meaning, a factor in our economy.

In our family, mom and dad are Longhorns, our first two kids are Aggies and we're hoping our last one is a Longhorn. It gives us family fun on Thanksgiving Day.

On Thanksgiving I will stop to give thanks that my family is safe and healthy, especially because I realize that, following the tragedies of this year, it is all too real a possibility that they might not have been.

We thank you, Almighty God, for the gift of water. Over it the Holy Spirit moved in the beginning of creation. Through it you led the children of Israel out of their bondage in Egypt into the land of promise. In it your Son Jesus received the baptism of John and we are buried with Christ in his death. By it we share in his resurrection. Through it we are reborn by the Holy Spirit.

Every year, I hear about Thanksgiving. Who do one give thanks to? ... And who is giving thanks? What are they giving thanks for? For lots of poverty that's on the earth and lots of war that is a-rumoring all over the earth? For lots of people who die daily and the crime that multiply?

In deference to American traditions, my family put our oven to rare use at Thanksgiving during my childhood, with odd roast-turkey experiments involving sticky-rice stuffing or newfangled basting techniques that we read about in magazines.

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite American traditions. I quickly picked it up when I moved to the U.S. from Sweden.

On Thanksgiving I will stop to give thanks that my family is safe and healthy, especially because I realize that, following the tragedies of this year, it is all too real a possibility that they might not have been.

The Farbers like a corn bread stuffing with sausage; my family is an herb-and-onion, regular-bread stuffing group. They like their sweet potatoes mashed, with marshmallows on top; we go for sliced, with a praline pecan topping. They do green beans and we do Brussels sprouts. But both families like a classic roasted turkey with pan gravy, homemade cranberry sauce, soft yeast rolls, mashed potatoes, and apple pie for dessert.

I would love four children because I have a very small family, so I want those big Thanksgiving dinners.

The only thing I could think of was turkey neck and turkey gizzards and I felt very depressed.

Joyful thanksgiving, so far from being escapist or sentimental, is on the contrary entirely realistic—but with the realism of one who sees the world in God, as the divine creation.

The Song of Love, the Song of Hate, the Songs of Praise and of Thanksgiving; I've learned them all, but there remains one called the Melody of Living.

The deeper we grow in the Spirit of Jesus Christ, the poorer we become - the more we realize that everything in life is a gift. The tenor of our lives becomes one of humble and joyful thanksgiving. Awareness of our poverty and ineptitude causes us to rejoice in the gift of being called out of darkness into wondrous light and translated into the kingdom of God's beloved Son.

I am grateful for what I am and have. My Thanksgiving is perpetual. It is surprising how contented one can be with nothing to definite - only a sense of existence

I am grateful for what I am and have. My thanksgiving is perpetual. It is surprising how contented one can be with nothing definite--only a sense of existence.

Gratitude is the inward feeling of kindness received. Thankfulness is the natural impulse to express that feeling. Thanksgiving is the following of that impulse.

I've spent a lot of Thanksgivings on the road with my band, so anytime that I can spend Thanksgiving with my family in a traditional aspect, eating sweet potatoes and cranberries and stuffing and all the trappings of Thanksgiving and then get on a treadmill the next day extra long, I'm happy.

Thanksgiving is nothing but a toast to genocide.

Thanks Giving. The Indian and the White Man together. The pageantry spoke to me of civilization.

In Denhorah's eighth grade geography right now, six days before Thanksgiving turkey, Mr Massey is saying that all of the details aren't in. That it might have been Highway Patrol that shot that Native American man just off the reservation. That it doesn't have to have been vigilantes or militia, even though this state is stacked deep with the second, all of them hoping to be the first.

Everything is for your benefit so that, as grace extends through more and more people, it may cause thanksgiving to increase to the glory of God. (2 Cor. 4:15)

Hello, there, young'uns! he said, squeezing the cubs in a big bear hug. Are you ready for our great Thanksgiving feast? Yes, Gramps, said Sister. But, you know, we should also think about all our Thanksgiving blessings. I always do! said Gramps, leading them inside and into the kitchen. And the Thanksgiving blessing I think about most is Grizzly Gran, herself--the best cook in Bear Country! Now, Gramps, scolded Gran. Stop your nonsense and help get the food on.

The Song of Love, the Song of Hate, the Songs of Praise and of Thanksgiving; I've learned them all, but there remains one called the Melody of Living.