Last Updated on 21 June 2024

A Christmas Story (1983) quotes

• Aaah! “Fra-GEE-leh!” It must be Italian!
• He looks like a deranged Easter Bunny.
  He does not!
  He does too, he looks like a pink nightmare!
• Aunt Clara had for years labored under the delusion that I was not only perpetually 4 years old, but also a girl.
• Be sure to drink your Ovaltine — Ovaltine? A crummy commercial? — Son of a bitch!
• Get the glue.
  We’re out of glue.
  You used up all the glue on purpose!
• I have since heard of people under extreme duress speaking in strange tongues. I became conscious that a steady torrent of obscenities and swearing of all kinds was pouring out of me as I screamed.
• I want an official Red Ryder, carbine action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle!
• 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.
• Meatloaf, smeatloaf, double-beetloaf. I hate meatloaf!
• My father worked in profanity the way other artists might work in oils or clay. It was his true medium, a master.
• Next to me in the blackness lay my oiled blue steel beauty. The greatest Christmas gift I had ever received, or would ever receive. Gradually, I drifted off to sleep, pranging ducks on the wing and getting off spectacular hip shots.
• Now, I had heard that word at least ten times a day from my old man. He worked in profanity the way other artists might work in oils or clay. It was his true medium; a master. But I chickened out and said the first name that came to mind: Schwartz!
• Oh, life is like that. Sometimes, at the height of our revelries, when our joy is at its zenith, when all is most right with the world, the most unthinkable disasters descend upon us.
• Oh my god, I shot my eye out!
• Oh! The theme I’ve been waiting for all my life. Listen to this sentence: “A Red Ryder BB gun with a compass in the stock, and this thing which tells time.” Poetry! Sheer poetry, Ralph! An A+!
• The old man stood there, quivering with fury, stammering as he tried to come up with a real crusher. All he got out was… “Naddafinga!”
• 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!
• Only one thing in the world could’ve dragged me away from the soft glow of electric sex gleaming in the window.
• Over the years I got to be quite a connoisseur of soap. My personal preference was for Lux, but I found Palmolive had a nice, piquant after-dinner flavor – heady, but with just a touch of mellow smoothness. Lifebuoy, on the other hand… YECCHH!
• Scut Farkus! What a rotten name! We were trapped. There he stood, between us and the alley. Scut Farkus staring out at us with his yellow eyes. He had yellow eyes! So help me, God! Yellow eyes!
• The snap of a few sparks, a quick whiff of ozone, and the lamp blazed forth in unparalleled glory.
• Some men are Baptists, others Catholics; my father was an Oldsmobile man.
• Well I double-DOG-dare ya!
  NOW it was serious. A double-dog-dare. What else was there but a “triple dare you”? And then, the coup de grace of all dares, the sinister triple-dog-dare.
  I TRIPLE-dog-dare ya!
  Schwartz created a slight breach of etiquette by skipping the triple dare and going right for the throat!
• With as much dignity as he could muster, the Old Man gathered up the sad remains of his shattered Major Award. Later that night, alone in the backyard, he buried it next to the garage. Now I could never be sure, but I thought that I heard the sound of “Taps” being played, gently.
• You’ll shoot your eye out! You’ll shoot your eye out!