Ooh Smithers! A blue-collar bar! Let's go slumming!

Mr. Burns: Are you acquainted with our state's stringent usury laws?
Homer: (Unsure) U...sury?
Mr. Burns: Silly me! I must have just made up a word that doesn't exist.

(Homer prepares to take out a loan from Mr. Burns.)
Mr. Burns: Just sign this form and the money will be yours. (Laughs evilly) Sorry, I was just um...erm...thinking of something funny Smithers did today.
Smithers: I didn't do anything funny today.
Mr. Burns: Shut up!

Mr. Burns: Oh, Smithers, I was wrong to play God. Life is precious, not a thing to be toyed with. Now take out that brain and flush it down the toilet!
Smithers: Sir, his family might appreciate it if you returned the brain to his body.
Mr. Burns: Oh, come on, it's 11:45!

Smithers: It's the man in the bag sir; I think he's still alive!
(Mr. Burns beats the bag with a shovel.)
Mr. Burns: Bad corpse, bad corpse! Stop scaring Smithers! Satisfied?
Smithers: Thank you, sir.

Mr. Burns: Will you quit your complaining!
Smithers: Sir, You know what this means? He is alive.
Mr. Burns: Oh, you're right Smithers; I guess I owe you a Coke.

Damn it, Smithers! This isn't rocket science, it's brain surgery!

Mr. Burns: Little do they realize their days of suckling at my teat are numbered.
Smithers: Oh, in the meantime, sir, may I suggest a random firing? Just to throw the fear of God into them?

Behold, the greatest breakthrough in labor relations since the cat-o-nine-tails!

Every bone shattered . . . organs leaking vital fluids . . . slight headache . . . loss of appetite . . . Smithers, I'm going to die.

Smithers: Sir, where's my radiation suit?
Mr. Burns: How the hell should I know? (as he covers the "Smithers" label on the suit he's wearing)

Computer Voice: 90 seconds to core meltdown.
Smithers: Sir there may never be a better time to say...I love you, sir.
Mr. Burns: Well, hot dawg. Thank you for making my last moments on earth socially awkward.

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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