Buddy The Elf Quotes

You remind me of Buddy the Elf. You’re always smiling. Always trying to make things better. I thought for sure you would get it,” he explained.

You sit on a throne of lies.

I just like smiling. Smiling's my favorite

What's your favorite color?

There’s a heart-wrenching scene in Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer, the old stop-motion Christmas TV special, that has always resonated with me. After his run-in with the Abominable Snowman, Rudolph and his buddies seek asylum on the Island of Misfit Toys, a haven for crappy, deformed, and unwanted toys presumably built by an elf with substance abuse issues. There’s the choo-choo train with square wheels, the water pistol that shoots jelly, the cowboy riding an ostrich, the white elephant with pink polka dots, the infelicitously named Charlie-in-the-Box. “Hey we’re all misfits, too!” Rudolph squeals to his newfound friends, and everyone breaks into song. I cry every time I see it.

Can I ask you something?” “What do you think?” I groaned. “Why do you call me ‘Buddy’? I’ve never heard you call Am that, or anybody else.” His eyebrows crept up his forehead at the same time as his mouth stretched into an even more rare, supermoon of a smile. “You don’t know?” “Am I supposed to?” “I thought you would,” he replied cryptically, still grinning. I shook my head. “No idea. I used to think you called me ‘angel’ because you thought that was my name, but now I know you just… whatever.” Rhodes chuckled, laying a hand on top of the table, the tips of his fingers millimeters from the lace trim of my green underwear. Those gray eyes were totally hung up on them for a moment before he glanced back at me, color rising along his throat as he said, “Because you are one.” My mouth gaped, and I was pretty sure I was just staring up at him blankly. One side of his mouth rose a little higher. “Why do you look surprised? You’ve got the sweetest, kindest heart, Buddy. It wouldn’t matter what you looked like, you’d still be my angel.” His angel? Was my chin quivering? Was that my heart losing its identity for a new one? Did Rhodes literally just say the nicest thing anyone had ever said about me? His expression was so fond, so open, all I could do was gape at him as he looked down at me. “You remind me of Buddy the Elf. You’re always smiling. Always trying to make things better. I thought for sure you would get it,” he explained. My chin was quivering.

I like to whisper tooooo

I can Whisper Too

I just like to smile. Smiling's my favorite.

In a pie chart of Nick’s personality, Dad Jokes would be, like, seven of the eight slices. He responds to every text in our family group chat with a GIF from a comedic film that is usually Elf: Buddy the Elf jumping up and down, yelling, “Santa’s coming!” if you’re excited; Buddy the Elf bent over a rabid raccoon—“Does somebody need a hug?”—if you’re sad about something. He’ll make the occasional exception, though. Like, if you texted him that your plane had been hijacked, he’d probably send you the scream face from Home Alone.

This place is just like the North Pole, except it smells like mushrooms and everyone looks like they want to hurt me." Buddy the Elf

What’s up, buddy?” I asked as I sat on my stool. Then Stan jumped down and bolted toward his scrap pile, and he dug around until he found the bent scrap of steel he was looking for. I grinned as he hurried back to me, but when he slapped the steel on his head, I was lost. “Something fell on me?” I guessed, but the little metal man shook his head, and Aurora came over to help me decipher his charades. I couldn’t help chuckling at how cute the little guy looked while he marched in a circle, ducked, rolled, and saluted, but his scrap of metal kept falling off his head no matter how hard he tried to balance it there. “Stan, you’re so brave,” Aurora giggled, and I furrowed my brow. “How did you get brave from all of that?” I asked. “He wants to join us on the frontlines,” the half-elf told me. “See? That’s his little helmet.” Stan nodded vigorously, and then he powered through a set of jumping squats, ten pushups, and some more marching to prove his worth. I grinned. “Ahh… so that’s what you’ve been doing. You wanted to gear up for the battle?” The little metal man nodded again. “Stan, I appreciate the dedication,” I admitted, “but war is no game. It’s gonna get messy out there, and you’re--” Aurora elbowed me hard as Stan clutched his scrap metal against his chest, and my heart melted into a puddle at the hopeful hunch in his shoulders. “You’re… not properly dressed,” I fumbled. “That should fit more securely to your head. Here, allow me.

You’re like…” She releases a short, startled laugh. “Like a darker, prettier, more fashionable version of Buddy in the movie Elf.

Um. Where are they?” I asked, trying not to look too anxious. “Do you mean your great-uncle and his elf buddy, or do you mean the heads, or do you mean the bodies?” Eric asked.