“The miracle of Christmas is that, like the distant
and very musical voice of the hound, it penetrates finally and becomes heard in
the heart—over so many years, through so many cheap curtain-raisers. It is not
destroyed even by all the arts and craftiness of the destroyers, having an
essential simplicity that is everlasting and triumphant, at the end of
confusion.”—E.B. White, “Comment,” The
New Yorker, December 24, 1949 issue, in Christmas at The New Yorker: Stories, Poems, Humor, and Art (2004)
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