The Simpsons

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Dear Neighbor, you are my brother. I love you, and yet I feel a great sadness in my bosom.
Neighbor's forever,
Ned Flanders

</i> Ned

If one were to look up "courage" in the Oxford English Dictionary, one might very well come upon the photo of these two gladiators. They approach the final hole in the shadow of the great emancipator, deadlocked at eight strokes on the happy side of par. Soon, one man will emerge triumphant. He will drink naught but champagne, while his opponent tastes bitter defeat in this oft cruel game.

Announcer

(Announcer on P.A. system in British accent)
Announcer: Good afternoon, everybody, and welcome to the finale of what has already been a stirring afternoon of miniature golf. The cream has risen, the wheat has bid farewell to the chaff, and now we approach the championship match with but two warriors remaining: the heretofore unknown Bart Simpson and Todd Flanders: one of the most skilled ten-year-olds to ever take back the blade.

(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.
Lisa: Nirvana.
Bart: State of bliss attained through the extinction of the self.

(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.)

Marge: Homer, I couldn't help overhearing you warp Bart's mind.
Homer: And?
Marge: I'm worried that you're making to big a deal of this silly little kiddie golf tournament.
Homer: But, Marge, this is our big chance to show up the Flandereses.
Marge: I'm sure it is, but why do we want to do that?
Homer: Because sometimes the only way you can feel good about yourself is by making someone else look bad. And I'm tired of making other people feel good about themselves.

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.

Lisa

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.

(Before the championship miniature golf match, the Flanders family pray together.)
Homer: Hey, Flanders, it's no use praying. I already did the same thing, and we can't both win.
Ned: Actually, Simpson, we were praying that no one gets hurt!
Homer: Oh, well, Flanders, it doesn't matter. This time tomorrow you'll be wearing high heels.
Ned: Nope. You will.
Homer: 'Fraid not.
Ned: 'Fraid so.
Homer: 'Fraid not!
Ned: 'Fraid so!
Homer: 'Fraid not, infinity!
Ned: 'Fraid so, infinity plus one!
Homer: D'oh!

(Homer puts some pressure on Bart to win the Miniature golf tournament.)
Homer: Look, son, all I'm asking is that you'll try.
Bart: Okay, I'll try.
Homer: D'oh! Anybody can try! I want you to win!

(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.
Bart: Okay.
Lisa: Embrace nothingness.
Bart: You got it.
Lisa: Become like an uncarved stone.
Bart: Done.
Lisa: Bart! You're just pretending to know what I'm talking about!
Bart: True.
Lisa: Well, it's very frustrating!
Bart: I'll bet.

(Bart and Homer finish a round of miniature golf.)
Bart: Final score: Bart, 41. Homer--Let's see. Six plus six plus six plus six plus six plus--
Homer: Never mind!

Displaying quotes 1 - 12 of 21 in total

The Simpsons Season 2 Episode 6 Quotes

If one were to look up "courage" in the Oxford English Dictionary, one might very well come upon the photo of these two gladiators. They approach the final hole in the shadow of the great emancipator, deadlocked at eight strokes on the happy side of par. Soon, one man will emerge triumphant. He will drink naught but champagne, while his opponent tastes bitter defeat in this oft cruel game.

Announcer

Dear Neighbor, you are my brother. I love you, and yet I feel a great sadness in my bosom.
Neighbor's forever,
Ned Flanders

</i> Ned
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