Susan Cooper: Well, here's to your mom.
Rayna Boyanov: To my mother. And to you.
Susan Cooper: And here's to you. I mean you may never be as wise as an owl but you'll always be a hoot to me! Haha.
Rayna Boyanov: What a stupid fucking retarded toast. You're delightful.
Susan Cooper: As are you.
Omi: It started with the wind, on a cold night, much like this. It was almost Christmas, but this Christmas was darker, less cheerful. But I still believed in Santa, in magic and miracles, and the hope that we could find joy again. But our village had given up on miracles, and on each other. They had forgotten the spirit of Christmas, the sacrifice of giving, and my family was no different. I tried to help them to believe again, but we were no longer the loving family I remembered. They too had given up. And eventually, so did I. And for the first time, I didn't wish for a miracle. I wished for them to go away. A wish I would come to regret. And that night, in the darkness of a howling blizzard... I got my wish. I knew Saint Nicholas was not coming this year. Instead, it was a much darker, more ancient spirit. The shadow of Saint Nicholas. It was... Krampus. And as he had for thousands of years, Krampus came not to reward, but to punish, not to give, but to take. He, and his helpers. I could only listen as they dragged my family into the underworld, knowing that I would be next. But Krampus did not take me that night. He left me, as a reminder of what happens when hope is lost, when belief is forgotten, and the Christmas spirit...dies.
Maura Ellis: I don't wear thongs. I have a very fussy taint.
Lucy van Pelt: Agh! I've got dog germs.
Sadness: You could get lost in there!
Joy: Think positive!
Sadness: Okay, I'm positive you will get lost in there.
Champ: Y'know how they say teenagers have no fear of death? That they're never gonna get hurt? Well not me, OK? I was born with the gift of fear.
Dusty Mayron: Hey, are you Roger?
Cool Dad: Nope.
Phil: Man loses his wife, he's a widower. Child loses a parent, they're an orphan. But losing a child... there is no word for this. And it shouldn't be.
Mortdecai: Your mother and father only met once, and money changed hands. Probably less than a 20, and they say she was dressed as a man at the time.
Owens: I took you off the street. Taught you my trade. I taught you my passion. Three generations of skills. And in spite of all my earnest efforts, in spite of all my hard work, you turned into a good person.
Darnell Lewis: We do this, we do this hard!
James King: I can get hard.
Victoria Lasseter: Cherry Progressive, listen. Mandelbrot set is in motion. Echo Choir has been breached.
Mike Howell: Is that a lyric from something?
Martha McKay: How did you do that?
Mr. Right: Some people waste time with the fighting. I just skip to the winning.
Bill Bryson: Writers don't retire. We either drink ourselves to death or blow our brains out.
TV Host: What will it be for you?
Bill Bryson: After this interview, probably both.
Fat Amy: Listen, I don't want you guys to fight. You're Beca and Chloe, together you're Bhloe and everyone loves a good Bhloe.
Dave: Hey, no smiling. You're still grounded. Remember?
Maya Blart: Look, Dad, you're going to have to get use to the idea that I'm a big girl now.
Paul Blart: Ok, first of all, we're all big. We're Blarts. Wide hips, thick ankles, and a low center of gravity. That's how the good Lord made us. That's why we're no good at running hurdles. Never will be.
Bianca Piper: In the end, it isn't about popularity or even getting the guy. It's about understanding that no matter what label is thrown your way, only you can define yourself.