The Simpsons/Season 5

season of television series

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The Simpsons (1989–present) is an American animated sitcom broadcast by the Fox Broadcasting Company created by Matt Groening. The series is a satirical depiction of American life, epitomized by the Simpson family.

Bart: Dad, when did you record an album?
Homer: I'm surprised you don't remember, son. It was only 8 years ago.
Bart: Dad, thanks to television I can't remember what happened 8 minutes ago.
[all Simpsons but Bart start laughing]
Bart: No really, I can't, it's a serious problem!
[everyone laughs again, and Bart finally relents and laughs too]
Bart: What're we all laughing about?
Homer: Who cares?

Barney: David Crosby? You're my hero!
David Crosby: Oh, you like my music?
Barney: You're a musician?

[After the Grammy Awards...]
Homer: Then came to the greatest thrill of my life.
George Harrison: Hello, Homer, I'm George Harrison.
Homer: Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Where did you get that brownie?
Harrison: Over there. There's a big pile of 'em.
Homer: [walks over to the brownies and wolfs down a whole bunch] Oh, man.
Harrison: [completely sincere] Well, what a nice fellow.

[The Be Sharps are going through hard times.]
Homer, Skinner, and Apu: [singing tiredly] For all the latest medical poop
Call Surgeon General C. Everett Koop
Koop Koop-a-doop
Apu: [to Homer] This is worse than your song about Mr. T.
Homer: I pity the fool who doesn't like... he. And where's Barney?
Principal Skinner: Oh, he's with his new girlfriend, the Japanese conceptual artist.
[Barney and his girlfriend walk in, and Barney inserts a demo tape into a recorder]
Barney: Barbershop is in danger of growing stale. I'm taking it to strange new places.
[On the recorder]
Barney's Girlfriend: Number eight... [Barney belches] Number eight... [Barney belches] Number eight... [Barney belches]
Lisa and Bart: AAAH! SIDESHOW BOB!
Bart: So you're the one who wrote me those letters!
Marge: You awful man! Stay away from my son!
Sideshow Bob: [menacing] Oh, I'll stay away from your son, all right! Stay away... FOREVER!
Homer: Oh, no!
Sideshow Bob: Wait a minute. That's no good. [walks away, then runs back] Wait, I've got a good one now! Marge, say "stay away from my son" again.
Marge: No!
[Sideshow Bob grumbles and walks away]

Blue-Haired Lawyer: But what about that tattoo on your chest? Doesn't it say, "Die Bart, Die?"
Sideshow Bob: No, that's German for "The Bart, The."
Juror: No one who speaks German could be an evil man.

Chief Wiggum: Now Sideshow Bob can't get in without me knowing. And once a man is in your home, anything you do to him is nice and [winks] legal.
Homer: Is that so? [yells out kitchen window] Oh, Flanders? Won't you join me in my kitchen? [Ned turns off the hose. Homer stands on the wall next to the kitchen arch, preparing to strike Flanders] Heh-heh-heh-heh...
Chief Wiggum: Uh, it doesn't work when you invite 'em.
Ned: Hidilly-hey!
Homer: Go home.
Ned: Toodledy-do!

[Homer has hired a detective to take care of Sideshow Bob]
Detective: Now, don't you fret. When I'm through, he won't set foot in this town again. I can be very, very persuasive. (Holsters a gun)
[Detective is at a bar with Sideshow Bob]
Detective: [whining] C'mon, leave town!
Sideshow Bob: No.
Detective: I'll be your friend!
Sideshow Bob: No.
Detective: Oh, you're mean!

[the Simpsons are being placed in the Federal Witness Protection Program]
FBI Agent #1: Tell you what, sir, from now on, you'll be Homer Thompson at Terror Lake. Let's just practice a bit, hmm? When I say "hello, Mr. Thompson", you'll say "hi".
Homer: Check!
FBI Agent #1: Hello, Mr. Thompson. [Homer stares blankly] Remember now, your name is Homer Thompson.
Homer: I gotcha.
FBI Agent #1: Hello, Mr. Thompson.
[again Homer stares blankly. The FBI agents exchange looks]
[hours pass by]
FBI Agent #1: [frustrated] Argh... Now when I say "hello, Mr. Thompson" and press down on your foot, you smile and nod.
Homer: No problem.
FBI Agent #1: [stepping hard on Homer's foot] Hello, Mr. Thompson.
Homer: [stares blankly again for a few seconds, then whispers to the other FBI agent] I think he's talking to you.

[Homer busts into Bart's room at night with glowing eyes and a knife]
[Bart screams]
[Homer switches back to normal, holding a brownie tray]
Homer: Let me cut you a brownie while they're still hot!
Bart: Dad, I'm kind of edgy right now. I'd appreciate you not coming in my room screaming and brandishing a butcher's knife!
Homer: Why? [looks at the knife in his hand] Oh, right! The Sideshow Bob thing! I'm sorry, boy.
[Homer puts the knife down, kisses Bart gently on the forehead, and walks out of the room. Bart turns over to go to sleep and Homer busts back in.]
Homer: BART YOU WANNA SEE MY NEW CHAINSAW AND HOCKEY MASK?! [stands over Bart revving the chainsaw]
[Bart screams louder]
[Homer returns to normal]
Homer: Oh, sorry! What am I thinking?
[Homer kisses Bart on the forehead and walks out of the room]

Chief Wiggum: Hold it right there, Sideshow Bob. You're under arrest.
Sideshow Bob: [furious] By Lucifer's beard!
Chief Wiggum: Uh, yeah. It's a good thing you drifted by this brothel.

Bart: Take 'im away, boys.
Wiggum: Hey, I'm the chief here! Bake 'im away, toys.
Lou: What'd you say, chief?
Wiggum: Do what the kid says.
[Homer is sitting in a nuclear inspection van]
Male NRC agent: Homer, this is an exact replica of your work station.
Homer: Hm?
Male NRC agent: Now, we're going to simulate a power surge in core sector eight.
Homer: What the hell are you talking about?
[The agents slam the door of the van shut, and slide open a peephole to watch Homer]
Homer: [blubbering] What do I do? What do I do? In the name of God, you've gotta tell me!
Male NRC agent: Relax! It's just a simulator. Nothing can go wrong.
Homer: [to himself] Just poke blindly at the controls until they let you go.
[Homer shields his eyes and pushes random buttons, inexplicably causing a meltdown]
Male NRC agent: No, no! This... can't be happening!
[Smithers and Mr. Burns run to an escape pod. Burns seals the door; Smithers desperately pounds on it]
Smithers: For the love of God, sir, there are two seats!
Mr Burns: [reopens the door] I like to put my feet up.
[Homer emerges from the crater, glowing a radioactive green.]
Homer: Raargh! Must... destroy... mankind! [his watch beeps] Ooh, lunchtime. [Homer shakes off the radiation and walks off]

Male NRC agent: I'm still not sure how he caused the meltdown. There wasn't any nuclear material in the truck!
Mr. Burns: Oh, very well, it's time for your bribe. Now, you can either have the washer and dryer where the lovely Smithers is standing, or you can trade it all in for what's in this box.
Male NRC agent: The box, the box!
Female NRC agent: Look, Burns, this is a big problem. You can't just throw money at it and make it go away.
[Mayor Quimby appears, wearing a fur coat that still has the $5,000 price tag attached to it.]
Mayor Quimby: Gentlemen, I've decided there will be, uh, no investigation. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go away. [departs]
Male NRC agent: You're in big trouble, Burns. Homer Simpson's job requires college training in nuclear physics. Now you get your man up to speed, or we'll be forced to take legal action.
Mr. Burns: Is that so? Well, I have a feeling you'll be... dropping the charges.
[Burns presses a button on his desk. A trapdoor opens a few feet behind the NRC agents, who stare at it in confusion.]
Smithers: The painters moved your desk, sir.
Mr. Burns: Ah, yes.

Mr. Burns: You [Homer] must find the Jade Monkey before the next full moon.
Smithers: Actually sir we found the Jade Monkey; it was in your glove compartment.
Mr. Burns: And the road maps and ice scraper?
Smithers: They were in there too sir.
Mr. Burns: Excellent, it's all falling into place.

[Homer, Bart and the nerds have captured Sir Oinkcelot]

Homer: Look! You pull its tail straight and it curls right back up again! [He begins pulling the pig's tail] Curly, straight! Curly, straight! Curly, straight! Curly, straight! [Sir Oinkcelot starts squealing in agony]
Doug: Mr. Simpson, I don't think he likes that.
Homer: Of course he does! He's a cute little piggy! [Continues pulling Sir Oinkcelot's tail] Curly, straight! Curly, straight! [The pig viciously bites Homer on his hand] OW!! WHY YOU LITTLE...! [Homer lunges at Sir Oinkcelot, but Bart and the nerds restrain him]

Homer: Hello, Dean? You're a stupid-head!
Peterson: [looks out the window] Homer, is that you?
[Homer screams and flees the payphone]

Homer: YES! Take that, Bitterman!

Professor: Good morning, and welcome to Nuclear Physics 101. I see a lot of new faces, but you know the old saying: "Out with the old, in with the nucleus" [Every student in the class except Homer bursts out with laughter] Now, let's just get started on the- whoops. [He drops his lecture notes, this time Homer explodes with laughter]
Homer: Oh, did you see that jerk! He dropped his notes! [Homer continues laughing obnoxiously loud]
Smithers: Who's Bobo, sir?
Mr. Burns: Bobo? Oh I meant Lobo, uh, Sheriff Lobo. They never should have cancelled that show.
[At the Simpsons' house, Homer is tossing and turning in his sleep]
Homer: Lobo...Lobo... Bring back Sheriff Lobo!

[After being told that preparations have been done for his birthday]
Mr. Burns: I won't get what I want.
Smithers: No one does.
[Smithers imagines Mr. Burns popping out of a birthday cake wearing only a sash, a la Marilyn Monroe.]
Fantasy Mr. Burns: [singing] Happy birthday, Mister Smithers.
Smithers: MMMM...

[Homer is doing comedy at Burns' party.]
Homer: Are you ready to laugh?
Man in Audience: Ugh, that poor dog.
Homer: I said, are you ready to laugh?!
Woman in Audience: Quiet, you awful man!
Homer: You know, Mr. Burns is so cheap--
Mr. Burns: What?
Homer: Er, I mean you know, Mr. Burns is so old--
Mr. Burns: [pounds the table] How dare you!
Homer: Whoa! Tough crowd. Better bring out the big guns... [clears throat] Here's an impression of Mr. Burns that you might find, a little "cheeky".
[Homer moons the crowd, revealing a face painted on his buttocks; everyone in the audience gasps]
Homer: (mockingly) I'm Mr. Burns, blah, blah, blah! Do this, do that, blah, blah, blah! I think I'm so big, blah blah blaaah!
Mr. Burns: Destroy him. [one of Burns' security staff whacks Homer over the head with a baton, leaving him unconscious] This party is over. [the security staff start attacking other party guests at random]

[After Mr. Burns' party, Homer is nursing the lump on his head he got during his comedy act at Burns' party]
Homer: Aw, where did I lose 'em? I'll never wiggle my bare butt in public again.
Lisa: I'd like to believe that this time. I really would.
Marge: Bart, run down to the store and get a bag of ice for your father.
Bart: Yes'm. Dad, I know you're discouraged, but please, don't deny the world your fat can.
Homer: Don't worry, boy. He'll be ready for your Aunt Selma's birthday.
Lisa: I knew it.

[Smithers and Mr. Burns are crawling across the ceiling of the Simpson home, using suction cups. They freeze when Homer walks to the refrigerator]
Homer: Mmmm... 64 slices of American cheese. [sits at the table and begins eating one at a time] 64...63...[Time passes to morning] 2...1.
Marge: [entering] Have you been up all night eating cheese?
Homer: I think I'm blind.
[Smithers and Mr. Burns fall the the floor and get up]
Mr. Burns: Good day to you.
[They both leave]

Barney The Dinosaur: Two plus two is four... two plus two is four... two plus two is four.
Homer: Hehehe. I can see why this is so popular.
[Devil Ned has give Homer an enchanted doughnut.]
Homer: Oooh!
Devil Ned: Now, remember, the instant you finish it, I own your soul for...
[Homer has already scarfed the doughnut, except for one small piece.]
Homer: Hey, wait. If I don't finish this last bite, you don't get my soul, do you?
Devil Ned: Well, technically, no, but...
Homer: [sing-song] I'm smarter than the Devil! I'm smarter than the Dev--
[Devil Ned angrily transforms into a huge, red demon.]
[He vanishes into the floor. Homer smugly puts the last doughnut piece into his pocket.]
Homer: Not likely. He, he, he.

[In Hell Labs Ironic Punishment Division, Homer is strapped to a chair where a blue demon arrives]
Blue Demon: So, you like donuts, eh?
Homer: Uh-huh.
Blue Demon: Well! Have all the donuts in the world!
[He starts laughing as Homer is force fed donuts. 15 minutes later, it's revealed that this torture has backfired as Homer still hasn't had enough.]
Homer: More.
Blue Demon: I don't understand it. James Coco went mad in 15 minutes.

Devil Ned: I give you the Jury of the Damned: Benedict Arnold, Lizzie Borden, Richard Nixon.
Richard Nixon: But I’m not dead yet. In fact, I just wrote an article for Redbook.
Devil Ned: Hey, listen, I did a favor for you.
Richard Nixon: Yes, master.
Devil Ned: John Wilkes Booth, Blackbeard the Pirate, John Dillinger. And the starting line of the 1976 Philadelphia Flyers.

Devil Ned: Alright Simpson, you get your soul back. But let that ill-gotten doughnut be FOREVER ON YOUR HEAD!!!
Homer: [screams]

[The Simpsons arrive at Mr. Burns' castle. Homer rings the doorbell.]
Mr. Burns: [via intercom] Welcome, come in. [sinisterly, still heard on intercom] Ah, fresh victims for my ever growing army of the undead.
Smithers: Sir, you have to let go of the button.
Mr. Burns: Oh, son of a bi-- [door opens]

Homer: BART! How many times have I told you not to bite your sis— Wait a minute! You ARE a vampire!
Grampa: QUICK!! We have to kill the boy!!
Marge: How'd you know he's a vampire?
Grampa: He's a vampire? [screams]

Marge: We've got to do something! Today, he's drinking people's blood - tomorrow, he could be smoking!

[The Simpsons arrive at Mr. Burns's crypt. Homer opens his casket and is ready to stake him.]
Homer: Take that, vile fiend! [starts staking Burns repeatedly]
Lisa: Uh, dad? That's his crotch.
Homer: Oh.. sorry. [puts stake to his heart] BAH!!
Mr. Burns: [screams]
[He quivers then stops and melts into mold]
Homer: [relieved] Aah...
Mr. Burns: [comes back to life] YOU'RE FIRED!!! [melts into mold and dies again]
Homer: D'OH!
Rescue Worker 1: Homer, this is never easy to say, I'm going have to saw your arms off.
Homer: They'll grow back, right?
Rescue Worker: Oh...yeah.
Homer: Whew.
[the rescue worker starts the rotary saw and moves it toward Homer's arm]
Rescue Worker 2: Homer, are you just holding on to the can?
Homer: Your point being?
[Homer leaves with everyone laughing at him]

Bart: You're absolutely right, Homer. We don't need a babysitter.
Homer: [suspicious] Wait a second... [pulls a card from his pocket: "ALWAYS DO OPPOSITE OF WHAT BART SAYS"] kids do need a babysitter.
Bart: Blast that infernal card! [to Homer] Don't give that card to me.
Homer: Here you g-- [pulls back] No!

Lionel Hutz: Mr. Simpson, I was just going through your garbage, when I couldn't help but overhear you are in need of a babysitter. Now, as a highly-skilled attorney, my fee is $175 an hour.
Homer: We pay $8.00 for the night and you can take two Popsicles out of the freezer.
Lionel Hutz: Three.
Homer: Two.
Lionel Hutz: Okay, two, and I get to keep this old birdcage.
Homer: Done.
Lionel Hutz: (to himself) Still got it!

Ruth Powers: You sure can see a lot of Springfield from this bluff.
Marge: Indeed, but there is so much smoke coming from one place. In fact, if I didn't know any better it is coming from our house.
Simpson residence. Lionel Hutz is furiously burning papers in fireplace
Lisa: Mr. Hutz, why are you burning so many papers?
Lionel Hutz: As of now Lionel Hutz no longer exists. Say hello to Miguel Sanchez!

(Bart and Lisa wake up the next day on the couch)
Bart: Hey, it's morning and Mom and Dad aren't home yet.
Lisa: Don't worry. Mr. Hutz is still here to take care of us.
(Lisa budges Lionel Hutz awake. He growls menacingly and brandishes a knife)
Lionel Hutz: (defensively) Don't touch my stuff! (realizes that he just scared Bart, Lisa, and Maggie; sheepishly, as he sits on the couch with a confused expression on his face) H-Hey, this isn't the YMCA.
Troy McClure: Hi! I'm Troy McClure!
Brad Goodman: And I'm Brad Goodman.
Troy McClure: You might remember me from such self-help videos as 'Smoke Yourself Thin' and 'Get Confident, Stupid!'
Brad Goodman: And you know me about such-help videos.

Brad Goodman: I want you all to close your eyes and listen to your inner child. Listen, what's he saying?
Ned's Inner Child: Stay on the course big Ned, you're doing super! [Ned smiles]
Homer's Inner Child: [points to his mouth] Food goes in here.
Homer: It sure does.
Moe's Inner Child: [in Italian accent] Hey-a Moe, what's-tha mattah? Ya no talking wit ya accent-a no more.
Moe: [slaps face] Mamma mia!

Kent Brockman: A new mood is in the air in Springfield as refreshing as a moistened towelette. Folks are finally accepting their feelings and freely communicating with no holding back. And this reporter thinks it's about [beep]ing time! Of course all these good feelings can be traced to one feisty little scamp who taught us that if it feels good, do it! [squirts whipped cream into his mouth]
Bart: Lis, today I am a God.
Lisa: Is that why you're sitting on an ice cream sandwich?
Bart: Ewww...

Mr. Burns: And I'm really enjoying this so called... iced cream!
Smithers: Sir, in the spirit of the festival and everything, I'd just like to say that.... I... love you.
Burns: Hm?
Smithers: In those colors! (to himself) Oh, who am I kidding? The boathouse was the time!

Principal Skinner: Darn! They're very slowly getting away!
Moe: Looks like they're headed for the old mill!
Principal Skinner: No they're not.
Moe: Well, let's go to the old mill anyway! Get some cider!
Bart: Aw man, how are we supposed to kill the rest of the afternoon?
Hobo: You mustn't kill time boys, you must cherish it, seize the day. Can I have some change to go get me loaded?

Milhouse: Hey, don't bogart that Squishee! [Barney chugs junkie]
Barney: I dunno where you magic pixies came from, but I like your pixie drink.

Homer: Marge, don't discourage the boy. Weaseling out of things is important to learn. It's what separates us from the animals, except the weasel.

Milhouse: You're lucky. You only joined the Junior Campers. I got a dirty word shaved into the back of my head.
[Skinner walks by and stops when he sees the unseen "dirty word" in the back of Milhouse's head.]
Principal Skinner: What is it with you boys and that word? [grabs Milhouse] I'm going to shave you bald, young man, until you learn that hair is not a right, it's a privilege.

[While looking for a peanut under the couch, Homer pulls out a 20 dollar bill]
Homer: Awww, twenty dollars? I wanted a peanut.
Homer's Brain: Twenty dollars can buy many peanuts.
Homer: Explain how!
Homer's Brain: Money can be exchanged for goods and services.
Homer: Woo-hoo!
[Homer starts running to the door, slips on the peanut he was looking for, and drops the money]
Homer: D'OH!

Chief Wiggum: Ya see anything yet?
Lou: Nothing captain, someone took all the beer and cold cuts.
Wiggum: Oh, that's it. I'm not even casting off until we go to the store.
[Charlie is explaining to Mr Burns about the gas leak]
Charlie: Well, sir, I won't bore you with the details of our miraculous escape, but we desperately need a real emergency exit.
Mr. Burns: Why, that's a fabulous idea. Anything else you'd like? How about real lead in the radiation shields? Urinal cakes, maybe? [hands Smithers a notebook] Smithers, throw this at him. [Smithers throws the book at Charlie. Mr. Burns right hand reaches under his desk and presses a button. A tube covers Charlie and sucks him upwards] Smithers, where does that tube go?
Smithers: I'm not sure, sir; it was here when we moved in.
[Charlie then finds himself in an unnamed foreign country inhabited by cackling men wearing turbans. He is forced to dance to sitar music.]
Men: Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance! [Charlie does so. The men start ululating maniacally]

Department of Labor Agent: This plant violates every labor law in the book! We found a missing Brazilian soccer team working in your reactor core!
Mr. Burns: That plane crashed on my property!

Homer: Moe, I need your advice.
Moe: Yeah?
Homer: You see, I have this friend named Joey Joe Joe...Junior...Shabadoo.
Moe: Homer, that's the worst name I've ever heard. [a man in the bar runs out, crying]
Barney: Hey, Joey Joe Joe!

[An alarm starts blaring at the power plant]
Smithers: Someone is charging room service to the company, sir.
Mr. Burns: Well we'll just see about that! [uncovers a cage hold several winged monkeys] Fly, my pretties! Fly! [the monkeys leap out of the window, only to plummet to their deaths] Oh...[to Smithers] Continue the research.
[Homer puts on a pair of horn-rimmed glasses he finds floating in a toilet bowl.]
Homer: The sum of the square roots of any two sides of an isosceles triangle is equal to the square root of the remaining side.
Man in stall: That's a right triangle, ya idiot!
Homer: D'oh!

Mr. Burns: Thank you for visiting our plant, Dr. Kissinger.
Henry Kissinger: It was fun.
Smithers: We'll let you know if your glasses turn up.
Henry Kissinger: Yes well, I'm sure I left them in the car. [thinking] No one must know I dropped them in the toilet. Not I, the man who drafted the Paris Peace Accords.

Kent Brockman: Scott, things aren't as happy as they used to be down here at the Unemployment Office, joblessness is no longer just for philosophy majors... now at the risk of sounding unpopular, this reporter places the blame for all of this squarely on you [pointing at the camera] the viewers!

Homer: The only monster here is the gambling monster that has enslaved your mother. I call him Gamblor; and it's time to free your mother from his neon claws.

Krusty: I don't wanna get a sore spot, but can we talk about herpes? Herpes, herpes, bo-berpes, banana fana fo-ferpes! Herpes, OH!! Hey! Y'know that spot on Gorbachev's head? Herpes, trust me! Anybody here have herpes? Huh? Huh? You people are the worst audience I've ever seen!
Man in Audience: Yeah, well you're the worse comedian WE'VE ever seen!
Krusty: Great! Then we'll just sit here silently for the next 90 minutes!
Man in Audience: Fine with us! [Krusty then sits down on stage in dismay]

Smithers: I'm afraid Robert Goulet hasn't arrived yet, sir.
Mr. Burns: Very well, begin the thawing of Jim Nabors.

Smithers: Excuse me, ma'am, don't you think you've gambled enough?
Marge: No.
Smithers: Okay. We're required by law to ask every 75 hours. Get her another free drink.

(Bart brings Robert Goulet to his treehouse casino)
Robert Goulet: Are you sure this is the place? I think I should call my manager.
Nelson Muntz: Your manager says for you to shut up!
Goulet: (surprised) Vera said that?

Homer: [grabbing Marge] Yer gotta redda kid forrad yarrar!
Marge: Homer, what is it? Slow down!
Homer: [slowly, but still furious] J'yer gedda ferda redderarrar.
Marge: Think before you say each word.
Homer: You broke a promise to your child.
Marge: What?
Homer: You promised Lisa to help her with her costume. You made her cry. Then I cried. Then Maggie laughed -- she's such a little trooper.
[Marge then realizes that all her time spent at the casino made her neglect on her duties as a mother.]
Bart: [horrified] The burglar even took my stamp collection!
Lisa: [amused] You had a stamp collection?
[The family all laugh at Bart, and the phone rings. Bart answers it.]
Nelson: [on the phone] Stamp collection? Ha-ha!

Kent Brockman: Hordes of panicky people seem to be evacuating the town for some unknown reason. Professor, without knowing precisely what the danger is, would you say it's time for our viewers to crack each other's heads open and feast on the goo inside?
Professor: Mmm, yes I would, Kent.

Homer: Aw, people can come up with statistics to prove anything, Kent. Forty percent of all people know that.
[Marge convinces Bart to perform one more time.]
Bart: You're right, Mom. I shouldn't let this bother me. I'm in television now. It's my job to be repetitive. My job. My job. Repetitiveness is my job. [to Marge] I'm gonna go out there and give the best performance of my life!
Marge: The best performance of your life?
Bart: The best performance of my life!

Lisa: [to Bart] And now you can go back to just being you, instead of a one-dimensional character with a silly catchphrase.
Homer: [breaking a lamp] D'oh!
Bart: Ay, caramba!
Marge: [groans]
Maggie: [sucks her pacifier]
Flanders: Hi-dilly-ho!
Barney: [belches]
Nelson: Ha, ha!
Mr. Burns: Excellent.
[Long pause. Everyone looks expectantly at Lisa.]
Lisa: If anyone wants me, I'll be in my room. [She walks away.]
Homer: What kind of catchphrase is that?

Bart: I'm telling you, I do work on the Krusty show. Look at the Credits! [presses "play"]
Krusty: Bye bye, kids! [laughs] [credits roll, then after a few seconds they are squeezed for a news promo]
Kent Brockman: I'm Kent Brockman. On the 11:00 news tonight, a certain kind of soft drink has been found to be lethal. We won't tell you which one after sports and the weather with Funny Sonny Storm.
Bart: [Pausing the tape and pointing to his name on the screen] There's my name, right here, Bart Simpson.
Milhouse: Looks more like Brad Storch.
Martin: No, it says Betty. Betty Symington.
Nelson: [Punching Bart in the stomach] That's for taking credit for other people's work.

Kent Brockman: [Reading news script] 'Tragic news tonight: a tidal wave in Kuala'... 'la'- la.... 'Pur'... 'Lam-pur'... France.
[Bart pops up and steals Kent's Danish.]
Bart: Yoink!
Kent Brockman: Yoink? [After finding out his Danish is gone] (gasps)

Kent Brockman: [Shuffling his papers] Yeah, I know I'm on. But I don't care. I don't read the news until I get my Danish. Go ahead, try to find a replacement.
Bumbleebee Man: [Pushing Kent off the chair and sitting on it] (clearing throat) 'A powerful tidal wave in Kuala Lumpur has killed 120 people.' Ay Chihuahua! Whoa, whoa, whoa! [Loses balance and falls over]

Announcer: And now it's time for "Match Game 2034", with Billy Crystal!
Billy: Hi!
Announcer: Farah Fawcett-Majors-O'Neal-Varney!
Farah: [Grunts]
Announcer: The "I didn't do it" boy!
Bart: [Grunts]
Announcer:: Ventriloquist Loni Anderson!
Loni: [sighs]
Announcer: Spike Lee!
Spike: Mmm.
Announcer: And the always lovely and vivacious head of Kitty Carlisle!
Kitty: Hi, everybody: let's start the game!
[Homer is eating expired meat he bought at the Kwik-E-Mart]
Homer: Stomach...churning! Bowels...clenching! Not much time...must...finish...
[Cut to an ambulance speeding down the street]
Homer: Your old meat made me sick!
Apu: Why, I'm so sorry. Please accept five pounds of frozen shrimp. [Homer picks, sniffs shrimp]
Homer: This shrimp isn't frozen – and it smells funny!
Apu: Okay, ten pounds.
Homer: Woo-hoo!
[Cut to an ambulance speeding down the street]

Kent Brockman: Good evening, here's an update on last week's nursing home exposé, "Geezers in Freezers" – it turns out the rest home was adequately heated; the footage you saw was of a fur-storage facility. We've also been told to apologize for using the term "geezers". Now, coming up next, "The Case of the Cantankerous Old Geezer."
Homer: [couch-ridden with salmonella] Oh... Urp! Rancid meat attack! Stupid parasites! Is there no way I can find justice?

Kent: We've come up with a camera so tiny it fits into this oversized novelty hat. [puts hat on Homer, straining on pain] Now, go get us some incriminating footage. And remember: you have to get in and out for 10 minutes, or you suffer permanent neck damage.
Man: [neck horribly bent] He's not kiddin'.
[Homer walks towards the Kwik-E-Mart doors, swaying and weaving. Apu watches him, curious. Kent and others watch through the camera in the surveillance van]
Apu: Huh?
Homer: Don't be alarmed, Apu. Just go about your daily routine like I'm not wearing the hat.
Apu: Your headgear seems to be emitting a buzzing noise, sir. Perhaps you have a bee in your bonnet.
Homer: Bee? Agh! Woo! Woo! Agh-agh-agghh! [Stomps on the hat and runs out. Homer returns to the van, gasping for air]
Kent: Homer, that hat's been with the station for twenty years. He had one day left 'til retirement.

[Apu is replenishing the hot dog roller, unaware the camera in the hat is filming him. He drops one on the floor, it rolls towards the hat, and we get a wretched close-up of the wiener]

Apu: Oh, it is encrusted with filth. [blows it] Oh, well, let's sell it anyway. Now this is just between me and you, smashed hat. [he winks right into the camera]

Homer: Apu, if I've learned anything, it's that life is just one crushing defeat after another until you just wish Flanders was dead.

Apu: That (the Kwik-E-Mart) is the sight of my spiritual de-pantsing.

[Homer and Apu are flying over the Himalayas]

Homer: Are we in India yet?
Apu: No.
Homer: Are we in India yet?
Apu: No.
Homer: Are we in India yet?
Apu: No.
Homer: Are we in India yet?
Apu: No. Oh wait... Now we are.

Apu: He is the benevolent, enlightened president and CEO of Kwik-E-Mart – and in Ohio, Stop-O-Mart. [CEO slurps his Squishee] He is the one I must ask to get my job back.
CEO: Approach, my sons.
[Homer and Apu approach the CEO's meditation point]
CEO: You may ask me three questions.
Apu: That's great, because I only need one.
Homer: [interrupting] Are you really the head of the Kwik-E-Mart?
CEO: Yes.
Homer: Really?
CEO: Yes.
Homer: You?
CEO: Yes. I hope this has been enlightening for you.
Apu: But – I must—
CEO: Thank you, come again.
Apu: But—
CEO: Thank you, come again.
[Homer and Apu leave the convenient store]
Homer: Well, that was a big bust. Is he really the head of the Kwik-E-Mart? [Apu growls, reaches towards Homer] No need to apologize, Apu – it was as much my fault as it was yours. [Apu pounces and strangles Homer] Okay, Apu ... I accept your apology! [both fight, topple off the path and fall down the mountain side]

James Woods: Apu, you saved my life. And as a small token of my appreciation, I got you your job back at the Kwik-E-Mart.
Apu: Oh! Oh, Mr. Woods, you're--
Woods: But as for me, I'm off to battle aliens on a faraway planet.
Marge: That sounds like a good movie.
Woods: Yes... yes, a... a movie, yes.
Malibu Stacy Doll: Don't ask me. I'm just a girl! Ha ha, ha ha!
Bart: Right on, say it, sister.
Lisa: It's not funny, Bart. Millions of girls will grow up thinking that this is the right way to act - that they can never be more than vacuous ninnies whose only goal in life is to look pretty, land a rich husband, and spend all day on the phone with their equally vacuous friends talkin' about how damned terrific it is to look pretty and have a rich husband!
Bart: Just what I was gonna say.
(Lisa angrily throws the doll out the living room window. Cut to Grampa Simpson riding a bike down the street)
Grampa Simpson: Look at me! I'm acting young!
(The doll gets caught in the spokes of the bicycle. Grampa Simpson flies off screaming past a blur of colors until he lands in an open grave at a cemetery. Two grave diggers having lunch turn around to see what the commotion is, then resume eating)
Grampa Simpson: (from inside the grave) Hey, this ain't so bad.

[Lisa pressures Stacy Lovell about Malibu Stacy.]
Stacy: I see exactly what you mean; this is a problem. But what do you expect me to do?
Lisa: Change what she says. It's your company.
Stacy: Not since I was forced out in 1974. They said my way of thinking just wasn't cost effective.
Lisa: [gasps] That's awful.
Stacy: Well, that and I was funneling profits to the Viet Cong.

[Smithers turns on his computer, its boot screen displays a computerized version of Mr. Burns]
Mr. Burns: Hello, Smithers. You're. Quite. Good. At. Turning. Me. On.
Smithers: Uh, you probably should ignore that.
Burns: Compadres, it is imperative that we crush the freedom fighters before the start of the rainy season! And remember: a shiny new donkey for whoever brings me the head of Colonel Montoya. [Smithers whispers to him] Hmm?... What?... Oh, and by that I mean, of course, it's time for the "Worker of the Week Award".

Stillwater: People, we're in danger of losing our funding. America isn't interested in space exploration anymore.
Babcock: Maybe we should finally tell them the big secret, that all the chimps we sent into space came back super intelligent.
[A chair swivels around, revealing a chimp in a suit, wearing glasses, and smoking a pipe.]
Chimp: [English accent] No, I don't think we'll be telling them that.

Reporter: Uh, question for the barbecue chef: Don't you think there is an inherent danger in sending underqualified civilians into space?
Homer: I'll field this one. The only danger is if they send us to that terrible Planet of the Apes. [thinks for a moment] Wait a minute, Statue of Liberty - that was our planet! You maniacs! You blew it up! Damn you! Damn you all to hell!

NASA Technician: [counting down to launch] Three... Two... One... MAKE ROCKET GO NOW!

Kent: We're just about to get our first pictures from inside the spacecraft with "average-naut" Homer Simpson, and we'd like to...
[an ant floats past the screen]
Kent: Ahhhh!
Simpsons family: AHHHHHHHH!
[the picture breaks up]
Kent: Folks, we just lost the picture, but...what we've seen...speaks for itself. The spacecraft has apparently been taken over – "conquered" if you will – by a master race of giant space ants. It's difficult to tell from this vantage point whether they will consume the captive earth men or merely enslave them. One thing is for certain. There is no stopping them; the ants will soon be here. And I for one welcome our new insect overlords. I'd like to remind them that as a trusted TV personality, I could be helpful in rounding up others to toil in their underground sugar caves.

Barney: It begins!

[Homer has sent potato chips loose in zero gravity]
Buzz Aldrin: Careful, they're ruffled!
[Ned has just offered Homer tickets to the game]
Homer: Why do you mock me, Lord?
Marge: Homer, that's not God. That's just a waffle Bart threw up there
[Marge knocks it down]
Homer: I know I shouldn't eat thee but... [does it anyway] Mmmm, sacralicious.

[Lenny and Carl see Homer and Ned drive by, but Homer buries Ned's head out of view so they don't see him with Flanders]
Homer: Hi!
Lenny: Hey, look! Homer's got one of those robot cars!
[The car crashes off-screen due to Homer pushing Ned's head down]
Carl: ...One of those American robot cars.

[Mr. Burns talking to football players before the game]
Mr. Burns: Men, there's a little crippled boy sitting in a hospital who wants you to win this game. I know because... I crippled him myself to inspire you.
[Cuts to Milhouse lying in a hospital bed with a broken leg and his parents at his side.]
Milhouse: I hope they win or Mr. Burns said he's coming back.

Rod: Lies make Baby Jesus cry.

Lovejoy: Now let us bow our heads in a silent prayer of Thanksgiving. [all the churchgoers do so. Homer is breathing through his nose, which gets louder with each breath, annoying Ned]
Ned: STOP IT!! BREATH THROUGH YOUR DAMN MOUTH! [the churchgoers gasp] Can't you see this man's not a hero!? He's annoying! He's very, very annoying!
Helen: Well, Ned's just jealous!
Moe: The man's hepped up on goofballs!
Abe: Let's sacrifice him to our God! We did it all the time in the 30's.
[Homer, Bart, and Lisa discuss their plans after breakfast.]
Bart: After breakfast, me and Milhouse are going down to the ravine. We got a tip from a five-year-old that there's a dead Martian down there.
Lisa: And I'm going to jam with the Little White Girls Blues Quartet. [to Homer]: Wanna come with me, Daddy-o?
Homer: Sorry, honey. I'd love to, but Daddy has to go to a beer-drinking contest.
Bart: Think you'll win?
Homer: Son, when you participate in sporting events, it's not whether you win or lose; it's how drunk you get.

Homer: What's the point of all this cleaning?! Are we so vain?!

Moe: Hey Clinton, get back to work!
Bill Clinton: Make me.

Grampa: Hey, they're playing the elephant song!
Jasper: I love that. Reminds me of elephants.

Kent Brockman: So isn't that what we're all asking in our own lives – "Where's my elephant?" I know that's what I've been asking.

Mr. Burns: [rides on Stampy] Ha-ha! Smithers, this reminds me of that fat man I used to ride to work!

Homer: Look at this, Marge: $58 and all of it profit! I'm the smartest businessman in the world.
Marge: Stampy's food bill today was $300.
Homer: [scared] Marge, please, don't humiliate me in front of the money.

Lisa: Mr. Blackheart?
Mr. Blackheart: Yes, my pretty?
Lisa: Are you an ivory dealer?
Mr. Blackheart: [chuckles] Little girl, I've had lots of jobs in my day: Whale hunter, seal clubber, president of the Fox network ... and like most people, yeah, I've dealt a little ivory.

Ned Flanders: Look! It's the four elephants of the Apocalypse!
Maude: That's "Horsemen," Ned.
Ned: Well, getting closer.

Homer: He took Bart too?! [yells out the window] THAT WASN'T PART OF OUR DEAL BLACKHEART! THAT. WASN'T. PAAAAART!

[At Springfield Police Station]
Chief Wiggum: [sarcastically] Yeah, right, lady: an elephant ran through your front yard. OK. [goes to another line] Wiggum...yeah, right, mister, mm hm. An elephant just knocked over your mailbox. OK. [goes to another line] Wiggum...Yeah, right, buddy, liquor store robbery, officer down. Sure...and I'm Edward G. Robinson!
Smithers: I got a mink chamois, sir. I hope it-- [gasp] Oh, my God, Mr. Burns is dead! Aw! Why do the good always die so young?
Mr. Burns: [emerges, strangles Smithers] You almost killed me!
Smithers: Please, sir... [places towel on Burns' shoulders] you'll catch..cold.

Milhouse: I have nothing to offer you but my love.
Mr. Burns: I specifically said no geeks!
Milhouse: [dejected] But my mom says I'm cool...
Mr. Burns: Next!
Nelson Muntz: Give me your fortune or I'll pound your withered old face in!
Mr. Burns: Ooh, I like his energy. Put him on the callback list.
Martin Prince: [Singing] Clang, clang, clang went the trolley. Ring, ring, ring went the bell. Zing, zing, zing went my heartstrings--
[Nelson runs onto the stage and cold cocks him. Martin collapses.]
Mr. Burns: Thank you. Give the bully an extra point.
Lisa: [clears throat] I propose to you that your heir not need be a boy. In this phallocentric society of ours -
Mr Burns: I don't know what 'phallocentric' means, but no girls!
Milhouse: [offstage, in a dress and wig] So much for Plan B.

[a stone suddenly crashes through Burns' library glass window, landing at his feet]
Mr. Burns: Oh, look. A bird has become petrified and lost its sense of direction.
Smithers: I think it is a rock, sir.
Mr. Burns: We'll see what the lab has to say about that.

[Bart smashes up Burns' residence in anger for not being chosen as the heir, smashing windows and decapitating statues]
Mr. Burns: Heh heh, look, Smithers -- a creature of pure malevolence. He's the perfect one to suckle at my proverbial teat. [opens window] You there, boy! What day is this?
Boy: [with an exaggerated Cockney accent] Today, sir? Why, it's Christmas Day!
Mr. Burns: I was talking to him. [points at Bart] You! What day is this?
Bart: Huh?
Mr. Burns: I'll tell you what day this is: today is the day you become my heir!
[Bart throws a rock which hits Smithers in the head]
Mr. Burns: Ooh, I like him a lot.

Deprogrammer: Mr. and Mrs. Simpson, your son has clearly been brainwashed by the evil and charismatic Mr. Burns.
Marge: Are you sure you can get him back for us?
Deprogrammer: Absolutely. I'm the one who successfully deprogrammed Jane Fonda, you know.
Marge: What about Peter Fonda?
Deprogrammer: Oh, that was a heartbreaker. But I did get Paul McCartney out of Wings.
Homer: You idiot! He was the most talented one!

[Bart turns on his model train and it leaves the room]
Milhouse: Where does it go?
Bart: I don't know, but it won't be back for three hours. One time it had snow on it.
Superintendent Chalmers: Seymour? You're fired!
Principal Skinner: I'm sorry, di-did you just call me a liar?
Superintendent Chalmers: No, I said you were fired.
Principal Skinner: Oh. That's much worse.

Bart: Come on, Chalmie, you fired Skinner for less than this.
Superintendent Chalmers: Yeah, I did, but... Skinner really bugged me. Besides, the way America's public schools are sliding, they'll all be this way in a few months. I say, lay back and enjoy it, it's a hell of a toboggan ride.
Ned: [over PA] Well, cockly-doodly-doo, little buddies. Let's thank the Lord for another beautiful school day.
Superintendent Chalmers: Thank the Lor-- thank the Lord? That sounded like a prayer. A prayer. A prayer in a public school! God has no place within these walls, just like facts have no place within organized religion. Simpson, you get your wish. Flanders is history!

Principal Skinner: Now I... I finally have time to do what I've always wanted: write the Great American Novel. Mine is about a futuristic amusement park where dinosaurs are brought to life through advanced cloning techniques. I call it "Billy and the Cloneasaurus."
Apu: Oh, you have got to be kidding, sir. First you think of an idea that has already been done. And then you give it a title that nobody could possibly like! Didn't you think this through?...[fade to later]... was on the bestseller list for eighteen months! Every magazine cover had it...[fade to later]...most popular movies of all time, sir! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!?! [Skinner hangs his head in shame as Apu calms down] ...I mean, thank you, come again.
Bart: Wow, that is the biggest Rice Krispie square I've ever seen! The rich sure know how to live.

Homer: [lowers a table out of the hotel window; then drops it] Got it, Barn?
Barney: [offscreen, below hotel] Got what? [table drops on his head] Ow!
Principal Skinner: You're stealing a table?
Homer: I'm not stealing it. Hotels expect you to take a few things. It's a souvenir!
Principal Skinner: Ah... Is that my necktie you're wearing?
Homer: Souvenir.

Scott Christian: Let's go over to the county courthouse live to Kent Brockman.
Kent Brockman: —ockman, just outside the county courtroom where an argument about chowder has spilled over into the biggest trial in Springfield history. Behind these doors, a federal judge will ladle out steaming bowls of rich, creamy justice in a case the media have dubbed "Beat-Up Waiter". (pfft) This reporter suggested "Waitergate", but was shouted down at the press club. Now, it's illegal to televise court proceedings in this state, [whispers] so we'll have to be quiet. [courtroom doors close in his face] Dooh—!

Bart: Mom, what if there's a really bad, crummy guy who's going to jail, but I know he's innocent?
Marge: Well, Bart, your Uncle Arthur used to have a saying: "Shoot 'em all and let God sort them out." Unfortunately, one day he put his theory into practice. It took 75 Federal Marshals to bring him down. Now let's never speak of this again. [she then starts humming and dusting the TV]
Bart: Mom, what if I can get this guy off the hook? Should I do it?
Marge: Honey, you should listen to your heart... and not the voices in your head, like a certain uncle did one gray December morn.

Chief Wiggum: Oh, my God... Someone's taken a bite out of the big Rice Krispie square! ...Oh, yeah, and the waiter's been brutally beaten, heh-heh.

Homer: [reads the verdict paper] What does "sequestered" mean?
Skinner: It means if we're deadlocked we'll be put up somewhere until we reach a decision.
Homer: What does "deadlocked" mean?
Skinner: It means the jury cannot reach a unanimous decision.
Homer: Uh-huh. And "if"?
Skinner: Conjunction meaning "in the event that" or "on condition that".
Homer: So IF we cannot reach a decision, the jury will be DEADLOCKED, and then we'll be SEQUESTERED in the Springfield Palace Hotel.
Patty: That's not going to happen, Homer.
Jasper: Let's vote. My liver is failing.
Homer: Where we'll get free rooms, free food, free TV, free HBO, OOOH! FREE WILLY! [Skinner snatches paper from him]
Skinner: Justice is not a frivolous thing, Simpson. It has little, if anything, to do with a disobedient whale. Now let's vote!
Homer: What are all of you voting?
Everyone: Guilty.
Homer: Uh-huh. How many S's in innocent?
[everyone else groans]
Homer: Now I'm only doing what I think is right. I believe Freddy Quimby should walk out of here a free hotel.

[Bart sees Skinner in the jury; Skinner thinks his thoughts to him]
Principal Skinner: I know you can read my thoughts, Bart. Just a little reminder: If I find out you cut class, your ass is mine. Yeah, you heard me. I think words I would never say. [camera pans left to Homer]
Homer: I know you can read my thoughts, boy. [sings Meow Mix jingle] Meow-meow-meow-meow, meow-meow-meow-meow, meow-meow-meow-meow-meow-meow-meow-meow.
Marge: Homer, you didn't do a very good job frosting Maggie's birthday cake.
[The cake reads, "Happy Birthday Magaggie".]
Homer: What? It's not Magaggie's birthday?

Homer: If he marries your mother, Marge, we'll be brother and sister! And then our kids... they'll be horrible freaks with pink skin, no overbites, and five fingers on each hand!
[Homer imagines his children as more realistic-looking humans, screams and runs from the room]

Mrs. Bouvier: Oh, Monty, I swear you're the devil himself.
Mr. Burns: I...Who told you?! ...Oh, ah, yes.
[Homer and Marge are discussing ways for Homer to better himself.]
Homer: Oh... and how is education supposed to make me feel smarter? Besides, every time I learn something new, it pushes some old stuff out of my brain. Remember when I took that home wine-making course and I forgot how to drive?
Marge: That's because you were drunk!
Homer: And how.

Homer: All right, we're breaking early tonight, class. For tomorrow, you should read pages seven through I 8 in Lisa's diary.
Marge: You too.
Homer: Huh?
Marge: Get out!
Homer: But I’m not in a cla-
[Marge pushes Homer onto the ground and slams the door, Otto puts his hand on Homer’s shoulder]
Otto: Is any of this gonna be on the test? 'Cause I wasn't payin' attention.

Homer: Oh. Fine. If that's what you want, you've got it. This scene is gettin' old, man. I'm hittin' the road. Maybe I'll drop you a line someday from wherever I wind up in this crazy old world. [walks into the streets]

[Reverend and Mrs. Lovejoy are talking to Marge.]
Reverend Lovejoy: Get a divorce.
Helen Lovejoy: Mmm-hmm.
Marge: But isn't that a sin?
Reverend Lovejoy: Marge, just about everything is a sin. [holds up a Bible] You ever sat down and read this thing? Technically, we're not allowed to go to the bathroom.