(Homer brings home Santa's Little Helper.)
Marge: Oh, this is the best gift of all, Homer!
Homer: It is?
Marge: Yes. Something to share our love and frighten prowlers.
Lisa: What's his name?
Homer: Number 8--Uh, I mean Santa's Little Helper.

(At the breakfast table.)
Marge: Bart, this is a big day for you. Why don't you eat something a little more nutritious?
Homer: Nonsense, Marge. Frosted Krusty Flakes are what got him where he is today.
(Homer reads the cereal box.)
Homer: It could be one of these chemicals here that makes him so smart. Lisa, maybe you should try some of this.
Marge: Homer!
Homer: I'm just saying why not have two geniuses in the family? Sort of a spare in case Bart's brain blows up.
(Homer and Marge walk out of the kitchen.)
Lisa: I don't care what that stupid test says, Bart. You're a dimwit.
Bart: Maybe so, but from now on this dimwit is on easy street.

Marge: Bart, I feel so bad for going so many years without, mmm, hmm--What's that word where you encourage something to grow?
Bart and Homer: (Both mumble "I don't know," in unison.)
Lisa: Nurturing.
Marge: Nurturing your brilliant brain, so I got tickets to the opera tonight. Hurry up. Get dressed. It starts at 8:00.
Bart: Oh, Mom. Not tonight!
Homer: Come on, Bart, your mother's only trying to help, so go ahead and enjoy the show.
Marge: Homer, you're going too.
Homer: But I'm not a genius. Why should I suffer?

There, there, Homer. You'll find a job. You've caused plenty of industrial accidents, and you've always bounced back.

Homer: To save this family, we're going to have to make the supreme sacrifice.
Lisa: No, Dad. Please don't pawn the TV!
Bart: Aw, come on, Dad, anything but that!
Marge: Homer, couldn't we pawn my engagement ring instead?
Homer: Now, I appreciate that honey, but we need $150 here.
Pawn Shop Owner: Afternoon, Simpson. So, what can I do for ya?
Homer: Would you pay $150 for this lovely Motorola?
Pawn Shop Owner: Is it cable ready?
Homer: Ready as she'll ever be.
Pawn Shop Owner: Mister, you got yourself a deal.

Homer: Are you sure that's enough? You know how the boss loves your delicious gelatin desserts!
Marge: Oh, Homer, Mr. Burns just said he liked it...once.
Homer: Marge, that's the only time he's ever spoken to me without using the word "bonehead."

Marge: This bully friend of yours, is he a little on the chunky side?
Bart: Yeah, he's pretty chunkified, all right.
Marge: Mm-hmm. And I'll bet he doesn't do well in his studies, either.
Bart: No, he's pretty dumb. He's in all the same special classes I am.
Marge: That's why he lashes out at the world.
Homer: Oh, Marge.
Marge: So tomorrow, instead of bickering with this boy, talk to him. You'll be surprised how far a little understanding will go.
Homer: Well, thank you very much, Mrs. Maharishi Gandhi.
(Homer takes Bart by the hand.)
Homer: Let's go, boy.

Homer: Where the hell are my keys? Who stole my keys? Come on, I'm late for work! (Lifts Maggie and looks underneath)
Marge: Oh Homer, you'd lose your head if it weren't securely fastened to your neck.
Bart: Did you check the den?
Homer: The den! Great idea!
(Homer heads into the den with Bart following him and Homer begins to pull couch apart.)
Bart: Warm. No, cold. Colder. Ice cold.
Homer: You know where my keys are?
Bart: No, I'm talking about your breakfast.

Homer: So, why are you still awake?
Marge: Well, I'm still trying to figure out what's bothering Lisa. I don't know. Bart's such a handful, and Maggie needs attention. But all the while, our little Lisa is becoming a young woman.
Homer: Oh, so that's it. This is some kind of underwear thing.

Marge [to Bart, Homer and Lisa]: I'm sorry, everybody, but I've only got two cupcakes for the three of you.
Bart: Well, mom, one of us has scarfed down more than enough cupcakes over the past three decades to keep--
Homer: Bart!

Marge: Lisa! Get away from that jazz man!
Lisa: But, mom! Can't I just stay a little longer?
Marge: Come on. Come on. We're worried about you. (to Bleeding Gums Murphy) Nothing personal. I just fear the unfamiliar.

Marge: I'm worried about Mrs Krabappel
Bart: No worries, I heard in the old four square court she was doing great
Lisa: No one even plays four square anymore, they just gossip

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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