Goggles: I like Santa.
Ralphie: Yeah.
Narrator: Let's face it, most of us are scoffers. But moments before zero hour, it did not pay to take chances.

Goggles: I like Santa.
Ralphie: I agree.
Narrator: Let's be honest, most of us are suspicious that Santa doesn't exist. But when it's really close to Christmas day, you don't want to say he doesn't and risk not getting any presents.

Ralphie: Some men are Baptists, others Catholics. My father was an Oldsmobile man.
Mr. Parker: That son of a bitch would freeze up in the middle of summer on the equator!

Ralphie: Some men are Baptists, others Catholics. My father believed in Oldsmobile cars as his religion.
Mr. Parker: That car engine would freeze up in the middle of summer on the equator!

Ralphie: Ooh, fudge!
Ralphie as Adult: 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!
Ralphie as Adult: 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.

Ralphie: Ooh, fudge!
Ralphie as Adult: Only I didn't say "fudge." I said “fuck,” the big one, the absolute worst of all the really bad words, the F- - -word! (so bad you must replace letters with dashes)
Mr. Parker: What did you say?
Ralphie: Uh, um...
Mr. Parker: That's what I thought you said. Get in the car. Go on!
Ralphie as Adult: It was all over - I was in terrible trouble. What would it be? The guillotine? Hanging? The chair? The rack? The Chinese water torture? Let me think. None of these dramatic fates I'd read about in comic books would be as bad as the real punishment.