Little Violet: I like him.
Little Mary: You like every boy.
Little Violet: What's wrong with that?
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!
Annie: Boys and girls and music. Why do they need gin?
[Mary's robe has been caught by George's foot, and she's naked in the bushes.]
Mary: Please give me my robe.
George Bailey: A man doesn't get in a situation like this every day.
Mary: I'd like to have my robe.
George Bailey: Not in Bedford Falls anyway.
Mary: [Gets pricked by the bush.] Ouch! Oh!
George Bailey: Gazuntiet.
Mary: George Bailey!
George Bailey: Inspires a little thought!
Mary: Give me my robe.
George Bailey: I've read about things like this.
Mary: Shame on you! I'm going to tell your mother on you.
George Bailey: Well, my mother is way up on the corner.
Mary: I'll call the police!
George Bailey: Well, they're all the way downtown. They'd be on my side.
Mary: Then I'll scream!
George Bailey: Maybe I can sell tickets.
Ma Bailey: First Harry, now George. Annie, we're just two old maids now.
Annie: You speak for yourself, Miss B.
Harry Bailey: A toast. To my big brother George. The richest man in town.
George Bailey: What is it you want, Mary? What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey. That's a pretty good idea. I'll give you the moon, Mary.
Mary: I'll take it. Then what?
George Bailey: Well, then you can swallow it, and it'll all dissolve, see... And the moonbeams would shoot out of your fingers and your toes and the ends of your hair... Am I talking too much?
George: Well, then how do you know?
Mrs. Bailey: Well, I've got eyes, haven't I? Why, she lights up like a firefly whenever you're around.
Mrs. Bailey: Did you know that Mary Hatch is back from school?
Mrs. Bailey: Came back three days ago. Nice girl, Mary. Kind that will help you find the answers, George.
Mr. Potter: What have you been doing lately, George? Playing the market with the company's money?
George Bailey: No, of course not.
Mr. Potter: Or is it a woman you're involved with? It's all over town that you've been giving money to Violet Bick.
George Bailey: What?
Mr. Potter: Not that it's any skin off my nose.