The Simpsons
Sundays 8:00 PM on FOXPopular Lisa Simpson Quotes
(Homer throws an orange into a vortex and it disappears.)
Homer: Hey, pretty slick!
(A crumpled wad of paper flies back out of the vortex and Lisa reads it.)
Lisa: "Quit throwing your garbage into our dimension."
(A scene from "The Raven.")
Homer: (Chuckles) Though thy crest by shorn and shaven, thou--
Narrator: I said.
Homer: --art sure no craven, ghastly, grim and ancient Raven wandering from the nightly shore--Tell me. Tell me what thy lordly name is on the night's Plutonian shore!
Narrator: Quoth the Raven.
Bart: (Interrupting) Eat my shorts!
Lisa: Bart, stop it! He says "nevermore." And that's all he'll ever say.
Bart: Okay, okay.
It chose to destroy itself rather than live with us. You can't help but feel a little rejected.
</i> Lisa
(Homer leaves for work)
Lisa: Don't spill anything!
Bart: Keep those mutants coming, Homer!
Homer: I'll mutant you.
(Homer comments on the newspaper headline about Mr. Burns running for Governor.)
Homer: Well, he's got my vote.
Marge: Homer, we're a Mary Bailey family.
Homer: Mary Bailey isn't going to fire me if I don't vote for her. I'm for Monty Burns!
Lisa: Ooh, a political discussion at our table! I feel like a Kennedy.
(After realizing he is going to lose the election, Mr. Burns starts smashing things in the Simpson home)
Mr. Burns: Smithers, tip over this table for me!
Smithers: Yes, sir.
(Smithers grunts as he turns over the table.)
Marge: Homer. Homer. Make them stop.
Homer: (Clears throat) Uh, Mr. Burns. Um, Mr. Burns?
Mr. Burns: Shut up and wreck something!
(Homer picks up a flower vase and drops it.)
Lisa: Mr. Burns, I hardly see what destroying our meager possessions is going to accomplish.
Mr. Burns: She's right. Take me home, Smithers. We'll destroy something tasteful.
(A stranger happens upon Bart and Lisa as they fish in a pond.)
Dave Shutton: Ah. So, kids, caught anything?
Lisa: Not yet, sir.
Dave Shutton: Uh-huh. Uh, what are you using for bait?
Lisa: My brother's using worms, but I, who feel the tranquility far outweighs the actual catching of fish, am using nothing.
Dave Shutton: I see. And, uh, what's your name, son?
Bart: I'm Bart Simpson. Who the hell are you?
Dave Shutton: (Chuckles) I'm Dave Shutton. I'm an investigative reporter who's on the road a lot, and, uh, I must say that in my day, we didn't talk that way to our elders.
Bart: Well, this is my day and we do, sir.
(The Simpson family make their way to their seats at Springfield Stadium.)
Lisa: I can't think of a better place to spend a balmy summer's night than the old ball yard. There's just the green grass of the outfield, the crushed brick of the infield, and the white chalk lines that divide the man from the little boy.
Homer: (Chuckles) Lisa, honey. You're forgetting the beer. It comes in 72-ounce tubs here.
Marge: I hope you'll space out the tubs this year, Homer.
Homer: What are you getting at?
Marge: Well, last year you got a little rambunctious and mooned the poor umpire.
Homer: Marge, this ticket doesn't just give me a seat. It also gives me the right--no, the duty--to make a complete ass of myself.
Marge: Mmmph.
(At Springfield Stadium, the entire crowd laughs as Mr. Burns weakly throws out the first pitch.)
Homer: Hey, Burns! Hey, rag arm!
Bart: You throw like my sister, man!
Lisa: Yeah, you throw like me!
(Lisa preps Bart before the golf tournament)
Lisa: Eighth hole.
Bart: Aim for the octopus' third tentacle.
Lisa: Twelfth hole.
Bart: Bank it off the pink tombstone.
Lisa: Nirvana.
Bart: State of bliss attained through the extinction of the self.
(Lisa tries to teach Bart a method to clear his mind of distraction.)
Lisa: Bart, I have a riddle for you. What's the sound of one hand clapping?
Bart: Piece of cake.
(Bart opens and closes his right fist quickly, making a sound.)
Lisa: No, Bart. It's a 3000-year-old riddle with no answer. It's supposed to clear your mind of conscious thought.
Bart: No answer? Lisa, listen up.
(Bart quickly opens and closes his fist again.)
Lisa: There were a lot of holes in your story
Studio Exec: That's the problem when you have 17 writers, but don't worry, we have two fresh ones working on it
[cuts to Maggie and monkey banging at typewriters]
