Maurice: You've probably convinced yourself you've seen aliens. You know why you think you see the things you do?
Mulder: Because... I *have* seen them?
Maurice: 'Cause you're lonely men. A lonely man chasing para-mastabatory illusions that you believe will give your life meaning and significance, which your pathetic social maladjustment makes impossible for you to find elsewhere. You probably consider yourself... passionate, serious, misunderstood. Am I right?
Scully: The dark Gothic manor, the omnipresent low fog hugging the thicket of overgrowth... Wait. Is that a hound I hear baying out on the moors?
Mulder: No, actually that was a left cheek sneak.
Mulder: I almost gave up on you.
Scully: Sorry. Checkout lines were worse than rush-hour on the 95. If I heard "Silent Night" one more time, I was gonna start taking hostages.
Lydia: [opening her robe to show a massive hole through her torso] I don't show my hole to just anyone.
Mulder: Why are you showing it to *me*?
Mulder: [alarmed at a noise] Shhh! What was that?
Scully: [irritably rational] These are tricks that the mind plays. They are ingrained clichés from a thousand different horror films. When we hear a sound, we get a chill, we, we- we see a shadow and we allow ourselves to imagine something that an otherwise rational person would discount out of hand.
[Mulder just continues up the dark staircase. Frustrated, Scully pulls out her flashlight and follows him]
Scully: [continuing to rationalize nervously] The whole, Mulder- the whole idea of a benevolent entity fits perfectly with what I'm saying, that, I mean, that a spirit would materialize or return for no other purpose than to show itself is silly and ridiculous. I mean, what it really shows is how silly and ridiculous we have become in believing such things. I mean that... that we can ignore all natural laws about the corporeal body, that... that we witness these spirits clad in their own, shabby outfits, with the same old haircuts and hairstyles, never aging, never- never in search for more comfortable surroundings... it actually ends up saying more about the living than it does about the dead.
Mulder: [only half-listening] Mmm-huh.
Scully: [clearly rattling on in fear and nervousness] And Mulder, it doesn't take an advanced degree in Psychology to understand the unconscious yearnings that these imaginings satisfy. You know, the... the longing for immortality, the hope that there is something beyond this mortal coil, that we might never be long without our loved-ones... I mean, these are powerful, powerful desires. I mean, they're the very essence of what makes us human... the very essence of Christmas, actually.
[a door nearby suddenly opens on its own with a loud creak]
Mulder: [breathless; whispering] Tell me you're not afraid.
Scully: [breathless also, but stringent] All right, I'm afraid. But it's an irrational fear.
Mulder: [rooted to his spot, letting her go first] I got your back.
Scully: [turning back, seeing that he hasn't moved] Thank you.
Lydia: Think of it as the last Christmas you'll ever spend alone.
Scully: Mulder... None of that really happened out there tonight... That was all in our heads, right?
Mulder: It must have been.
Scully: Mmm. Not that, uh, my only joy in life is proving you wrong.
Mulder: When have you proved me wrong?
Scully: Well... Why else would you want me out there with you?
Mulder: You didn't want to be there? Oh, that's, um... That's self-righteous and... narcissistic of me to say, isn't it?
Scully: No, I mean... Maybe I did want to be out there with you.
Mulder: Now, um... I know we said that we weren't going to exchange gifts but, uh... I got you... a little something.
Mulder: Merry Christmas.
Scully: Well, I got you a little something, too.
Mulder: I think there's a hiding space under the floorboards.
Scully: What are you going to do?
Mulder: There may be somebody trapped under there.
Scully: Mulder, don't.
Mulder: I got to get them out.
Scully: Not now.
Mulder: Hey, you have a gun, right? Rationally, you've been in much more dangerous situations. I was half right.
Scully: Oh, my God.
Mulder: Hey, Scully... Look at this.
Scully: It's a woman. Mulder, it looks like they were shot to death.
Scully: You know what's weird?
Scully: Mulder, she's wearing my outfit.
Mulder: How embarrassing.
Scully: Yeah, well, you know what? He's wearing yours.
Mulder: Oh... Scully...
Scully: That's us.