Grandpa Joe: Mr. Wonka! I don't know if you remember me, but I used to work here in the factory.
Willy Wonka: Were you one of those despicable spies who everyday tried to steal my life's work and sell it to those parasitic copycat candy making cads?
Grandpa Joe: No, sir.
Willy Wonka: Then wonderful, welcome back.
Lilo: It's sandwich day. Every Thursday I give Pudge the Fish a peanut butter sandwich. But, today we were out of peanut butter. I asked my sister what to give him and she said a tuna sandwich. I can't give Pudge tuna! Do you know what tuna is? IT'S FISH! If I gave Pudge tuna, I'd be an abomination! I'm late because I had to go to the store and get peanut butter cause all we have is...is. Stinking tuna...Pudge controls the weather.
Frozone: Where's my super suit?
Frozone: Where is my super suit?
Honey: I uh - put it away.
Honey: Why do you need to know?
Frozone: I need it!
Honey: Nuh uh! Don't you think about running off to do some derrin' do! We've been planning this dinner for two months!
Frozone: The public is in danger!
Honey: My evening's in danger!
Frozone: You tell me where my suit is woman! We are talking the greater good!
Honey: I am your wife! I am the greatest 'good' you are ever gonna get.
Gingy: Ok, ok...I'll tell you. Do you know the Muffin Man?
Farquad: The Muffin Man?
Gingy: The Muffin Man.
Farquad: Yes, I know the Muffin Man. Who lives on Drury Lane?
Gingy: Well...she's married to...the Muffin Man.
Farquad: The Muffin Man?
Gingy: The Muffin Man!
Farquad: She's married to the Muffin Man?
Herb Brooks: Red line, back. Blue line, back. Far blue line, back. Far red line, back. And you have 45 seconds to do it. Get used to this drill. You'll be doing it *a lot*. Why? Because the legs feed the wolf, gentlemen. I can't promise you we'll be the best team at Lake Placid next February. But we will be the best conditioned. That I can promise you.
The Grinch: The nerve of those Whos. Inviting me down there - and on such short notice. Even if I wanted to go my schedule simply wouldn't allow it. 4:00, wallow in self pity; 4:30, stare into the abyss; 5:00, solve world hunger, tell no-one. 5:30, jazzercize. 6:30, dinner with me. I can't cancel that again. 7:00, wrestle with my self-loathing; I'm booked. Of course, if I bump the loathing to 9 I could still be done in time to lay in bed, stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness. But what would I wear?
George Bailey: Just a minute... Just a minute. Now, hold on, Mr. Potter. You're right when you say my father was no businessman. I know that. Why he ever started this cheap, penny-ante Building and Loan, I'll never know. But neither you nor anyone else can say anything against his character, because his whole life was... Why, in the 25 years since he and his brother, Uncle Billy, started this thing, he never once thought of himself. Isn't that right, Uncle Billy? He didn't save enough money to send Harry away to college, let alone me. But he did help a few people get out of your slums, Mr. Potter, and what's wrong with that? Why... Here, you're all businessmen here. Doesn't it make them better citizens? Doesn't it make them better customers? You... You said...what'd you say a minute ago? They had to wait and save their money before they even ought to think of a decent home. Wait? Wait for what? Until their children grow up and leave them? Until they're so old and broken down that they... Do you know how long it takes a working man to save $5,000? Just remember this, Mr. Potter, that this rabble you're talking about...they do most of the working and paying and living and dying in this community. Well, is it too much to have them work and pay and live and die in a couple of decent rooms and a bath? Anyway, my father didn't think so. People were human beings to him. But to you, a warped, frustrated old man, they're cattle. Well in my book, my father died a much richer man than you'll ever be!
Buddy: We elves try to stick to the four main food groups: candy, candy canes, candy corns and syrup.
Check-Out Woman: Are you here all by yourself?
Kevin McCallister: Ma'am, I'm eight years old. You think I would be here *alone*? I don't think so.
Dingle: Wiggle my ears and tickle my toes, methinks I see a baby's nose! It's more than a nose. There's a whole baby attached to it. Better call my brothers! Wingle! Bingle! Tingle! Zingle.
Zingle: What is it, Dingle?
Wingle: It's a baby, Zingle.
Tingle: A baby what, Wingle?
Bingle: A baby baby, Tingle.
Dingle: I like babies, Bingle.
Bingle: Our baby's the best baby of them all, Wingle.