Lisa Simpson Quotes
(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.)
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Why do I get the feeling that someday I'll be describing this to a psychiatrist?</i> Lisa
- Permalink: <i>(Lisa watches as Homer mows Ned Flanders' lawn in one of Marg...
(Lisa tries to mentally prepare Bart for the miniature golf tournament with some meditation.)
Lisa: I want you to shut off the logical part of your mind.
Lisa: Embrace nothingness.
Bart: You got it.
Lisa: Become like an uncarved stone.
Lisa: Bart! You're just pretending to know what I'm talking about!
Lisa: Well, it's very frustrating!
Bart: I'll bet.
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Homer: What does everyone say to some miniature golf, followed by a round of frosty chocolate milkshakes!
Bart: All right!
Marge: Mmm, I was going to wash my hair.
Lisa: And I'm studying for the math fair. If I win, I'll bring home a brand-new protractor.
Homer: Too bad we don't live on a farm.
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Bart, having never received any words of encouragement myself, I'm not sure how they're supposed to sound, but here goes. I believe in you.
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(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.
Bart: State of bliss attained through the extinction of the self.
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(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!
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(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.
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(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.
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