Michael Scott: I don't ask for much for Christmas, I really don't. It's not like I'm begging people to buy me diamonds and broach pendants. "Oh buy me something expensive or I'm gonna kill myself." That's not- I don't care about that. All I want to be is Santa. And, you want to take that away from me? Fine. Go ahead. But when you need my help because I am ruining everything, don't look at me.

Michael Scott: Behold! [extends his arms] Jesus Christ. And I bring to you glad Christmas tidings. I want to remind everyone the true meaning of Christmas. [Angela claps] Those of you who wish to join me, that's great. I'm excited by that. And those of you who don't, I forgive you. But I never forget.
Toby: Wow, Michael, like this must be obvious how wrong this is.
Michael Scott: Oh the Anti-Christ!
Toby: You can't- [Michael touches his forehead and makes sizzling noise] Ow. Look, you cannot push religion.
Michael Scott: Oh, but I can push drugs in here? Is that what you're saying?
Toby: No!
Michael Scott: Well, you have to pick one or the other. Your choice. Pick your poison. Get back to me. In the meantime, I am going to spread my goodness all over this company!

David: [answering the phone] Yes, Michael, what is so urgent?
Michael Scott: David, guess who I'm sitting here dressed as.
David: I'm not going to guess. You can tell me or I am going to hang up.
Michael Scott: I'll give you a hint. His last name is Christ. He has the power of flight. He can heal leopards.
David: Michael!
Michael Scott: I'm Jesus, David, and you know why? Because Phyllis, a woman, has uslurped my role as Santa.

Michael Scott: You know what, Christmas isn't about Santa, or Jesus. It's about the workplace. All of you feel like my family. Ryan, you are my son. And Pam, you're my wife. And Jim. And Angela and Phyllis, you are my Grandmas. And Stanley, you're our mailman. And I can't help but look at all your wonderful beautiful faces and think, "How could they do this to us?"

Jim: Okay. We haven't gone under. We've been sold and that can mean many different things.
Michael Scott: It's hard for me to imagine a scenario, where Meredith Palmer keeps her job and David Wallace does not, no offense Meredith.
Meredith: No, I get it.

Michael Scott: It's insane! A woman Santa? Where does it stop? No! Jim, this may be the last Christmas that we have here. Doesn't it make you a tiny bit anxious, me not playing Santa? Come on!
Jim: I'm not gonna go tell Phyllis that she can't be Santa.
Michael Scott: Fine! Then do it anonymously. Ransom note style. You can- I- You know what, I have a bunch of letters cut out of magazines in my desk. You can use those.

Michael Scott: Hey. How's everybody doing?
Jim: Not great. You heckled Santa for an hour and a half.
Michael Scott: That was a different guy. That was Jesus. Jesus sort of ruined the party. Hurt, petulant Jesus.
Angela: Are you serious? This is so offensive.
Michael Scott: You know what's even more offensive, is baling on this party because some jerk ruined the first part of it.

Michael Scott: Here's Santa! Hey, little girl, what would you like for Christmas? Ooh, you have been a very naughty girl, I see.
Pam: Michael, we already have a Santa, Phyllis.
Michael Scott: What the hell is going on?

Dwight K. Schrute: It is warm feelings.
Meredith: Why don't we talk more about it instead of doing it?
Dwight K. Schrute: Thirty! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight! [others join]
Jim: Why would you start so high?

Phyllis: You didn't decorate it?
Jim: No.
Dwight K. Schrute: Exactly.
Jim: We didn't, because we think it'd be better to do it together.
Dwight K. Schrute: Everyone.
Andy: Why would you wrap it in a sheet, if you're not covering anything up?
Pam: Is it, is it fake?
Jim: Pam!
Dwight K. Schrute: Yes, we are unveiling, an artificial tree, that will never die.
Jim: Yes.
Dwight K. Schrute: Like the spirit of Christmas!