Robert Ardrey on Christmas Eve

“Buying the Christmas tree. ... Why can't they make Christmas presents to fit the wrapping paper? BEN. ... Mr. Hertzog and his wife are checking up on an old economic theory that on Christmas Eve you can buy any tree in town for a dollar.”

“A government snooper in my house on Christmas Eve! I could spit! This is my property! I have a deed! I have something that says! CLAY. Are you going to put Mike through to New Zealand? CHRIS. What is it? Did Mike say something on the Radio.”

“Clay: What's the FBI doing here on Christmas Eve? Parrish (Chuckling, opening the briefcase, taking out papers.): I could ask that, too. At seven o'clock tomorrow morning, one hundred and eighty-five miles from here, four children — all under the age of twelve — expect me to come down a chimney.”