“A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!’ cried a cheerful voice.”

“What right have you to be dismal?...You’re rich enough.”

“…though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say God bless it!”

“’Why did you get married?’ said Scrooge. ‘Because I fell in love!’”

“I want nothing from you; I ask nothing of you; why cannot we be friends?”

“We have never had any quarrel to which I have been a party… I’ll keep my Christmas humour to the last… so Merry Christmas, uncle!”

“If you should happen, by any unlikely chance, to know a man more blessed in a laugh than Scrooge’s nephew… I should like to know him too.”

“I am sorry for him… Who suffers most from his ill whims? Himself always.”

"I mean to give him the same chance every year, whether he likes it or not, for I pity him.”

“Heartily sorry… for your good wife. If I can be of service to you in any way… this is where I live. Pray come to me.”

“It really seemed as if he had known our Tiny Tim, and felt with us.”

“Let him in! It is a mercy he didn’t shake his arm off.”

“The clerk… applauded. Becoming immediately sensible of the impropriety, he poked the fire, and extinguished the last frail spark forever.”

“[Fred] stopped at the outer door to bestow the greetings of the season on the clerk, who, cold as he was, was warmer than Scrooge; for he returned them cordially.”

“The clerk smiled faintly… [and] observed that it was only once a year.”

“…the clerk, with the long ends of his white comforter, dangling below his waist (for he boasted no great-coat)…”

“…the clerk… went down a slide on Cornhill… twenty times, in honour of its being Christmas-eve, and the ran home… to play at blindman’s buff.”

“[Tiny Tim is] As good as gold… and better.”

“Bob Cratchit said… that he regarded it as the greatest success achieved by Mrs. Cratchit.”

“I’ll give you Mr. Scrooge, the Founder of the Feast!”

“…But I think he has walked a little slower than he used to, these last few evenings.”

“I promised him that I would walk there on a Sunday. My little, little child... My little child!”

“…I am sure we shall none of us forget poor Tiny Tim… or this first parting… among us.”

“He had a momentary idea of knocking Scrooge down with [the ruler]…and calling to the people…for help and a straight-waistcoat.”

“The chain he drew… was long, and wound about him like a tail… it was made… of cash-boxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds, and heavy purses wrought in steel.”

“I wear the chain I forged in life… I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free-will…”

“Is its pattern strange to you?... Or would you know… the weight and length of the strong coil you bear yourself?”

“Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence were all my business…”

“I have sat invisible beside you many and many a day… that is no light part of my penance.”

“You will be haunted… by Three spirits… without their visits… you cannot hope to shun the path I tread.”

“What has ever got your precious father…and your brother, Tiny Tim? And Martha warn’t as late last Christmas day by half an hour!”

“…it was a sufficient dinner for… Mrs. Cratchit said… surveying one small atom of bone… they hadn’t ate it all at last!”

“Mrs. Cratchit left the room alone – too nervous to bear witness- to take the pudding up, and bring it in.”

“The Founder of the Feast indeed!... I’d give him a piece of my mind to feast upon, and I hope he’d have a good appetite for it.”

“I’ll drink his health for your sake and the Day’s… not for his.”

“The colour hurts my eyes… I wouldn’t show weak eyes to your father, when he comes home…”

“…he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he … it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas day who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see.”

“God bless us, every one!”

“Bob held his withered little hand in his , as if he loved the child, and wished to keep him by his side, and dreaded that he might be taken from him.”

“…when we recollect how patient and how mild he was… we shall not quarrel easily among ourselves.”

“Spirit of Tiny Tim, thy childish essence was from God!”

“…to Tiny Tim, who did not die, he was a second father.”

“Its hair… was white, as if with age; and yet the face had not a wrinkle on it.” 

“…the figure itself fluctuated in its distinctness; being now a thing with one arm, now with one leg, now with twenty legs…” 

“…would you so soon put out, with worldly hands, the light I give?” 

“A small matter…Is it not? He has spent but a few pounds… Is that so much that he deserves this praise?”

“But the relentless Ghost pinioned him in both his arms and forced him to observe what happened next.” 

“Scrooge pressed it down with all his force, but he could not hide the light, which streamed from under it in an unbroken flood upon the ground.”

“Come in! Come in and know me better, man!”

“It was clothed in one simple deep green robe, or mantle, bordered with white fur…and on it’s head it wore no other covering than a holly wreath.”

“…it was his own kind, generous, hearty nature, and his sympathy with all poor men, that led him straight to Scrooge’s clerk’s…”

“If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, none other of my race…will find him here.”

"If he be like to die, he had better do it, and decrease the surplus population."

“Most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased."

“The Phantom slowly, gravely, silently approached.”

“…the very air through which this Spirit moved it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery.”

“It was shrouded in a deep black garment which concealed his head.”

“He knew no more, for the Spirit neither spoke nor moved…”

"I fear you more than any Spectre I have seen.”

“The spirit, stronger yet, repulsed him.”