- Milt: Do you now what love is? What is really is? Shall I tell you? Love is a disease, a cancer that eats you from inside. It eats you up without you knowing it. It assumes the exact size and shape of what was in you before. It becomes you. And when the disease goes away, when it leaves you, you realize you've been hollowed out. You've got nothing inside you any more.
- The kid: Broken feather duster.
- Milt: It's all been...
- Milt, The kid: ...consumed.
- Santa Claus: What do you want for Christmas?
- Chrystal: I'd like a pearl necklace, double strand, 20 inch, 6, 7 millimeter pearls. And I'd appreciate if you'd snuff my husband.
- Santa Claus: Ho ho ho. Now that's not the kind of thing Santa does.
- [last lines]
- Milt: Sometimes when the game was going good, when I was really in the zone, it was like I could read his mind. Like I knew what he was going to do before he even did it. Times like those I would begin think, instead of the other way around. Times like those it got pretty hard to tell. It got hard to know, which of us was real, and which one of us was a reflection.
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