Narrator: Meanwhile, I struggled for exactly the right BB gun hint. It had to be firm, but subtle.
Ralphie: Flick says he saw some grizzly bears near Pulaski's candy store!
*everyone stares at Ralphie*
Narrator: They looked at me as if I had lobsters crawling out of my ears.

*Ralphie is seeing Santa, only he can't remember what he wanted*
Santa Claus: How about a nice football?
Narrator: Football? Football? What's a football? With unconscious will my voice squeaked out 'football'.
Santa Claus: Okay, get him out of here.
Narrator: A football? Oh no, what was I doing? Wake up, Stupid! Wake up!
Ralphie: *is shoved down the slide, but he stops himself and climbs back up* No! No! I want an Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle!
Santa Claus: You'll shoot your eye out, kid.

Ralphie: Oooh fuuudge!
Narrator: Only I didn't say "Fudge." I said THE word, the big one, the queen-mother of dirty words, the "F-dash-dash-dash" word!
Mr. Parker: What did you say?
Ralphie: Uh, um...

Mr. Parker: That's... what I thought you said. Get in the car. Go on!
Narrator: It was all over - I was dead. What would it be? The guillotine? Hanging? The chair? The rack? The Chinese water torture? Hmmph. Mere child's play compared to what surely awaited me.

Mr. Parker: Fra-gee-lay. That must be Italian.
Mrs. Parker: Uh, I think that says FRAGILE, dear.
Mr. Parker: Oh, yeah.

Randy: I can't put my arms down!
Mother: Well... put your arms down when you get to school.

Ralphie: Scut Farkus!
Narrator: Scut Farkus! What a rotten name! There he stood, between us and the alley. Scut Farkus staring out at us with his yellow eyes. He had yellow eyes! So, help me, God! Yellow eyes!

Waiters: *singing* Deck the halls with boughs of horry, ra ra ra ra ra, ra ra ra ra.
Chop Suey Palace Owner: No, no, not 'ra ra ra ra', 'la la la la'! Try again.
Waiters: Deck the halls with boughs of horry, ra ra ra ra ra, ra ra ra ra.
Chop Suey Palace Owner: No, no! Sing something else.
Waiters: Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way. Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sreigh!

Flick: Are you kidding? Stick my tongue to that stupid pole? That's dumb!
Schwartz: That's 'cause you know it'll stick!
Flick: You're full of it!
Schwartz: Oh yeah?
Flick: Yeah!
Schwartz: Well I double-DOG-dare ya!
Narrator: NOW it was serious. A double-dog-dare. What else was there but a "triple dare ya"? And then, the coup de grace of all dares, the sinister triple-dog-dare.
Schwartz: I TRIPLE-dog-dare ya!
Narrator: Schwartz created a slight breach of etiquette by skipping the triple dare and going right for the throat!

Randy: Meatloaf, smeatloaf, double-beatloaf. I hate meatloaf.
The Old Man: Alright, I'll get that kid to eat. Where's my screw driver and my plumber's helper? I'll open up his mouth and I'll shove it in.