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The-simpsons

(In "Married to the Blob," Dr. Phil and Homer's family try to intervene during an eating rampage.)
Dr. Phil: Homer, your family's here. And you've gotta help me help them help you help me help you.
Homer: Marge, I missed you. All this eating has put me in the mood for a little lovin' (Purrs sexily)
Marge: I have to be honest with you: I can't love a 4,000 ton cannibal.
Homer: What happened to "for better or for worse?!"
Bart: Dad, you're eating Dr. Phil.
Homer: (Licks fingers) It's amazing. He tastes just like Jeffery Tambor.
(Dr. Phil can be seen grunting and struggling inside Homer's stomach.)
Dr. Phil: Food does not equal love!
(Dr. Phil perishes inside Homer's stomach.)

(In "Married to the Blob," after eating the green goo, Homer's stomach rumbles and he wakes up in a zombie-like trance.)
Homer: Must eat, then poop, then eat some more, then eat while pooping.
(Homer heads down to the kitchen and raids the refrigerator.)
Homer: (Panting) Still hungry.
(Bart stumbles into the kitchen to see what is going on.)
Bart: Dad?
Homer: Son, let me have a lick at you.
(Homer stuffs Bart into his mouth and tries to eat him. Marge walks into the kitchen and clicks on the light.)
Marge: Homer! You won't eat my stuffed peppers, but you'll eat our son?
Homer: Nag, nag, nag.
(Homer pulls a squirming Bart out of his mouth.)

Marge: Homer, your butt just gave me an idea.
Homer: Yep, it'll do that.

(At the Springfield Mall, Homer finishes eating his tube of gummy worms.)
Marge: Well, if you're through, let's check out that discount book warehouse.
Homer: (Whining) We already own a book!

Marge: Bart, here's a letter from your school.
Bart: A fire? I didn't start a fire in the teachers' lounge! I mean, what fire? I mean, a letter from school? Please elaborate.
Marge: Someone at your school has a life-threating peanut allergy.
Bart: Cool! Who is it?
Marge: Ah, the letter doesn't say. But from now on, no peanut products are allowed on school property.
(Marge examines Bart's lunch box.)
Marge: Hmm, let's see what you've got. Peanut butter and jelly sandwich, trail mix, starring peanuts. Good grief, more peanuts!
(Marge holds up a copy of "Good Grief, More Peanuts" by Charles M. Schultz.)

(Marge goes on a carpentry binge, and builds all sorts of things.)
Lisa: Wow, Mom, you made all this?
Bart: It's like you're the Jesus of carpentry!
Marge: Aww, what sweet blasphemy.

(Marge is stressed about the possible doom of Lisa's animals.)
Bart: Oh, this benfit concert is gonna be Scooby Dooby!
Marge: I'm very happy for you, Bart. (Sighs)
Bart: Why are you sad? Thinkin' about your marriage?

(Marge takes away Bart's laser pointer.)
Marge: Bart! Do you want to leave the funeral early? Do you?
Bart: Yes! Of course.

Child Psychiatrist: First, let me assure you that Bart's antics are perfectly normal for a seven-year-old.
Marge: Actually, he's ten.
Child Psychiatrist: Oh, dear. Dear, dear, dear, dear, dear.

Bart: So how did Malt Liquor Mommy die?
Marge: Stop calling her that!

(Michael and Fat Tony invite the Simpson family over for dinner.)
Marge: We'd love to! You know, I've never met you wife.
Fat Tony: Sadly, my Anna Maria was whacked by natural causes.
Marge: Oh, you're a widower.
Fat Tony: I bring flowers to her grave every Sunday.
Marge: Ooh, flowers every week! I wish I was dead.

Homer: Bart's having girl troubles. You'd better go talk to him.
Marge: It's clown troubles, that's your responsibility!
Homer: I thought I was in charge of bedtime stories and pets dying!
Marge: Yeah, well we're adding clowns.
Homer: Oh, fine! But you just bought yourself ear piercing and strange new feelings!

Displaying quotes 109 - 120 of 560 in total

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The Simpsons Quotes

Homer: (Wearing glasses) 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: (From inside a bathroom stall.) That's a right triangle, you idiot!
Homer: D'oh!

Horst: (Sinister) Okay, Mr. Burns, you win. But beware. We Germans aren't all smiles and sunshine.
Mr. Burns: (Sarcastic) Oooh, the Germans are mad at me. I'm so scared! Oooh, the Germans! (Hiding behind Smithers) Uh oh, the Germans are going to get me!
Horst: Stop it!
Man: Stop, sir.
Mr. Burns: Don't let the Germans come after me. Oh no, the Germans are coming after me.
Man: Please stop the "pretending you are scared" game, please.
Horst: Stop it! Stop it!
Mr. Burns: (Pause) No! They're so big and strong!
Man: Stop it.
Horst: Stop it, Mr. Burns.
Man: Please stop pretending you are scared of us, please, now.
Mr. Burns: Oh, protect me from the Germans! The Germans--
Horst: Burns, Stop it!

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