Susan Pevensie: Lucy thinks she's found a magical land...
Professor Kirke: Hmmm.
Susan Pevensie: In the upstairs wardrobe.
Professor Kirke: What? What did you say?
Peter Pevensie: Our sister... She thinks she's found a wood...
Professor Kirke: What was it like?
Susan Pevensie: Like talking to a lunatic...
Professor Kirke: No, no, not her, the wood!
Susan Pevensie: You don't mean you believe her?
Professor Kirke: And you don't?
Susan Pevensie: He's a beaver! He shouldn't be saying anything!
Aslan: If the Witch understood the true meaning of sacrifice, she would have interpreted the deep magic differently. That when a willing victim who has committed no wrong, offers himself in a traitor's stead, the stone table will crack, and death itself will go backwards.
The Fox: I'm sorry, Your Majesty.
White Witch: Don't waste my time with flattery.
The Fox: [Looking at Edmund.] Not to be rude, ma'am, but I wasn't talking to you.
Mrs. Beaver: You'll thank me later, its a long journey, and Beaver gets cranky when he's hungry.
Mr. Beaver: I'm cranky now!
Lucy Pevensie: It's all right! I'm back, I'm all right!
Edmund Pevensie: Shh, he's coming!
Peter Pevensie: I don't think you two have quite got the idea of this game.
Lucy Pevensie: But weren't you wondering where I was?
Edmund Pevensie: That's the point. That's why he was seeking you!
Susan Pevensie: [Coming out of her hiding place.] Does this mean I win?
Peter Pevensie: I don't think Lucy wants to play anymore.
Lucy Pevensie: But...I've been gone for hours.
Jadis: Tell me, Edmund, are your sisters deaf?
Edmund Pevensie: No...
Jadis: And your brother, is he...unintelligent?
Edmund: Well...I think so. But Mother says...
Jadis: Then HOW DARE YOU COME ALONE!
Maugrim: Please don't try to run. We're tired and we'd prefer to kill you quickly.
[Bird lands on branch outside doorway.]
Susan Pevensie: Did that bird just psssst at us?
[Mrs. Beaver strokes her fur, embarrassed.]
Mrs. Beaver: Couldn't have given me five minutes warning?
Mr. Beaver: I would've given you a WEEK if I thought it'd help!
[The horse Edmund rides rears up.]
Edmund Pevensie: Whoa, Horsey! Whoa!
Horse: My name is Philip.
Griffin: They come in numbers far greater than our own.
General Otmin: Numbers do not win a battle.
Peter Pevensie: No, but I bet they help.