Llewelyn Sinclair: Hello! I am Llewelyn Sinclair! I have directed three plays in my career, and I have had three heart attacks! That's how much I care, I am planning for a fourth.
Marge: [aside] Hmm, maybe I should have taken a nice calligraphy class.
Chief Wiggum: Oh, forget it, that Mr. Takahashi's a lunatic.
Llewelyn Sinclair: I'm not an easy man to work for. While directing Hats Off to Chanukkah, I reduced more than one cast member to tears. Did I expect too much from fourth-graders? The review "Play enjoyed by all"... [holds up an elementary school newspaper with said headline] speaks for itself.
Shopkeeper: We sell forbidden objects from places men dare to tread. We also sell frozen yogurt which I call frogurt.
Homer: Well, I need something for my son's birthday.
Shopkeeper: Ah, perhaps this will please the gentleman. [picks a Krusty the Clown doll] Take this object, but beware it carries a terrible curse.
Homer: [worried] Ooooh, that's bad.
Shopkeeper: But it comes with a free frogurt.
Homer: [relieved] That's good.
Shopkeeper: The frogurt is also cursed.
Homer: [worried] That's bad.
Shopkeeper: But you get your choice of topping.
Homer: [relieved] That's good.
Shopkeeper: The toppings contain potassium benzoate.
Shopkeeper: That's bad.
Homer: Can I go now?
Homer: [after seeing Barney Gumble gnawing on an arm] Barney! Not you too!
Barney: I'm not a zombie. But hey, when in Rome... [sees George Washington's zombie] Wow! George Washington!
Homer: Take that, Washington! [Shoots him, then sees Einstein's zombie, and shoots it too.] Eat lead, Einstein! [Sees Shakespeare's zombie] Show's over, Shakesphere! [hits him with the stomach with the edge of his gun]
Shakesphere: Is this the end of zombie Shakespeare? [dies]
Homer: No, it's true. When I was a boy, I wanted a catcher's mitt, but my dad wouldn't get it for me. So I held my breath until I passed and hit my head on the coffee table. The doctor thought I might have brain damage.
Bart: Dad, what's the point of this story?
Homer: I like stories.
Bart: Look, can I please go to the movie?
Homer: I know my punishment may seem a little harsh, but I can't go back on it. You're welcome to watch anything you want on TV.
Bart: TV sucks.
Homer: I know you're upset right now, so I'll pretend you didn't say that.
Mr. Burns: Marge, I'm giving you a raise and a new office, right next to mine. [laughs]
Smithers: But sir, that's my office.
Mr. Burns: Don't worry Smithers, I'm putting you where the action is.
[In the men's restroom, Smithers is cleaning the urinals with a toothbrush.]
Smithers: Springtime fresh, winter white. What could be better?
[Homer bursts in and unzips his fly.]
Homer: Aw man, I really gotta...
Marge: So do you think I have a case?
Lionel Hutz: Mrs. Simpson, you're in luck. Your sexual harassment suit is just the thing I need to rebuild my shattered practice. [he produces a bottle from his desk] Care to join me in a belt of Scotch?
Marge: It's 9:30 in the morning.
Lionel Hutz: Yeah, but I haven't slept in days. [he takes a generous swig] Last chance... [Homer and Marge don't respond. Hutz drains the bottle] Oh, yeah....
[Bart and Lisa are fighting while Homer is on the phone with a babysitter.]
Homer: [to Bart and Lisa] Shut up, you little monsters!! [to the phone] I was wondering if you'd like to babysit my little angels.
[On the other end of the line.]
Woman: I'm sorry, this isn't Abby. This is her sister. I look after her now.
[Abby rocks in her chair and mumbles quietly to herself.]
Abby: No, Bart... put it down... put it down, Bart... Bart, put it down.
Homer: You see, son, a woman is a lot like... err... a refrigerator. They're about six feet tall, 300 pounds... they... make ice... uhhh... oh! Actually, a woman is more like a beer. They smell good, they look good, you'd step over your own mother just to get one! [drains his beer] But you can't stop at one, you wanna drink another woman! [runs to the fridge]
[Many beers later...]
Homer: [drunkenly] So, I sez, "Yeah? If you want that money, come and find it, 'cause I don't know where it is, ya baloney. You make me wanna retch." [passes out and snores.]
Lionel Hutz: Mrs. Simpson, in your own words, please tell us what happened after you and your husband were ejected from the restaurant.
Marge: We pretty much went straight home.
Lionel Hutz: Remember, Mrs. Simpson, you're still under oath.
Marge: We drove around until 3:00 in the morning looking for another open all-you-can-eat seafood restaurant.
Mr Burns: [poorly disguised with a fake mustache] Hello, my name is Mr. Snrub, and I come from some place far away. [to himself] Yes, that'll do. Anyway, I say we invest that money back in the Nuclear Plant.
Smithers: I like the way Snrub thinks.
Lyle Lanley: I've sold monorails to Brockway, Ogdenville, and North Haverbrook, and by gum, it put them on the map. Well sir, there's nothing on Earth like a genuine, bonafide, electrified six-car monorail. What'd I say?
Ned Flanders: Monorail!
Lyle: What's it called?
Patty and Selma: Monorail.
Lyle: That's right, monorail! (the crowd starts chanting "monorail" as the song begins)
[Marge, suspicious of Lyle Lanley, decides to take a long drive to investigate. During her drive, she recalls some things said earlier during the town meeting.]
[Marge arrives in North Haverbrook. She sees a sign that says "Welcome to North Haverbrook, Where the Monorail is King!" Marge sees decrepit houses, old rusted cars and tumbleweeds. Marge hardly sees any people save for a crazy old lady in a rocking chair on her front porch, laughing evilly.]
[Marge then goes to the town center to investigate the monorail, and is shocked to see a crumbling track and a wrecked monorail.]
Woman: Go away! There ain't no monorail and there never was! [Woman slams her window shut, which reads "Monorail Café". A strange looking man approaches Marge, which startles her.]
Sebastian Cobb: Excuse me miss, you asked about the monorail?
Kent Brockman: This just in, a fist-fight is in process in downtown Springfield. Initial reports indicate, and these are very preliminary, that one of the fighters is a giant lizard. [shot of Godzilla appears in the background.] Do we have a source on this? Uh-huh, a bunch of drunken frat boys. All right, we could use some names. "I.P Freely"-- [realizes] Uh... grrr!
Factory Worker: You can't treat the working man this way. One day, we'll form a union and get the fair and equitable treatment we deserve. Then we'll go too far, and get corrupt and shiftless, and the Japanese will eat us alive!
Mr. Burns' Grandfather: The Japanese? Those sandal-wearing goldfish-tenders? Bosh! Flimshaw!
Mr. Burns: [to Smithers, in the present] If only we'd listened to that boy, instead of walling him up in the abandoned coke oven. Well, I'm going to avenge my grandfather. We'll take on that greedy union and get back our... dental plan.
[Mr. Burns is taking Homer on a tour of his mansion.]
Mr. Burns: This is a thousand monkeys working at a thousand typewriters. Soon, they will have written the greatest novel known to man. [reading] "It was the best of times, it was the 'blurst' of times"? You stupid monkey! [strikes the monkey, which screeches] Oh, shut up.
Grampa: We can't bust heads like we used to. But we have our ways. One trick is to tell stories that don't go anywhere. Like the time I caught the ferry to Shelbyville. I needed a new heel for m'shoe. So I decided to go to Morganville, which is what they called Shelbyville in those days. So I tied an onion to my belt. Which was the style at the time. Now, to take the ferry cost a nickel, and in those days, nickels had pictures of bumblebees on 'em. Gimme five bees for a quarter, you'd say. Now where was I... oh yeah. The important thing was that I had an onion tied to my belt, which was the style at the time. You couldn't get white onions, because of the war. The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones..
Bart: Oh yeah? Well you and I could write a better cartoon than that.
Lisa: Write a cartoon ourselves? Bart, are you thinking what I'm thinking?
Bart: Probably not. [in his mind, Bart is thinking about holding Santa Claus at gunpoint] Lie in the snow and count to 60. [Barts leaps into the sleigh and cracks the reins] Hiyah! [laughs evilly as he flies into the distance] Merry Christmas, suckers!
Lionel Hutz: Well, he's had it in for me ever since I kinda ran over his dog.
Marge: You did?
Lionel Hutz: Well, replace the word "kinda" with the word "repeatedly", and the word "dog" with "son."
Lionel Hutz: Your Honor, my client claims that she simply forgot she was carrying this bottle of... delicious bourbon... brownest of the brown liquors... so tempting... [puts the bottle to his ear] What's that? You want me to drink you? But I'm in the middle of a trial. Excuse me. [Hutz rushes out of courtroom to call his best friend] Hello, David? I'm really tempted!
Crosby: Just take it one day at a time, and know that I love you.