What kind of civilized people eat the body and blood of their savior?
[camera pans to Reverend Lovejoy...]

Marge: A lot of people sound like Sideshow Bob. Like Frasier on Cheers.
Homer: Or Frasier on Fraiser.
Marge: Or Lt. Cmdr. Tom Dodge in Down Periscope.

Marge: Play with Lisa.
Bart: You don't play with Lisa, you play despite her.
Lisa: Bart, I'm not thrilled either, but one day we might need each other for a transplant so we better keep the lines of communication going.

Homer: Why do you mock me, O Lord?
Marge: Homer, that's not God. That's just a waffle that Bart tossed up there. (She scrapes it down with a broom.)
Homer: I know I shouldn't eat thee, but--(Eats waffle)--Mmm... sacrilicious.

Well, there's a rec room off the kitchen. But sometimes it's there and sometimes it isn't. Our house is very odd that way.

Ned: Our bible study group is going to the holy land next month. I'd like to take you and your family along as my guests.
Homer: Hmm, let me think. Take my family to a war zone on a bus filled with religious lameos in a country with no pork in a desert with no casinos. Where do I sign up?
Marge: Homer, I can hear your sarcasm from inside the house and the dishwasher is on.

Marge: Why don't you take this potato? It's pretty big.
Bart: Mom, you're always trying to give me potatoes. What is it with you?
Marge: I just think they're neat.

Hutz: Now don't you worry, Mrs. Simpson, I- uh-oh. We've drawn Judge Snyder.
Marge: Is that bad?
Hutz: Well, he's kind of had it in for me, since I accidently ran over his dog. Actually, replace "accidently" with "repeatedly," and replace "dog" with "son."

Marge: We're too late!
Cobb: I shouldn't have stopped for that haircut. Sorry.

Homer: Marge, I'm going to a hardcore gay club and won't be home until three in the morning!
Marge: Have fun!

Marge: You lost 5% of your brain.
Homer: Me lose brain? Uh-oh! (Everyone including Homer laughs)
Homer: Why I laugh?

Marge: Homer, there's a family of possums in here.
Homer: I call the big one "bitey."

The Simpsons Quotes

Larry: What you got riding on this?
Homer: My daughter.
Larry: What a gambler!

Maggie? Oh, you must be sick. Let's see, what's old Dr. Washburn prescibe? Do you have dropsy? The grippe? Scofula? The vapors? Jungle rot? Dandy fever? Poor man's gout? Housemaid's knee? Climatic poopow? The staggers? Dum-dum fever?

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