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Teacher: This is a great day for me. I thought I could never teach again!
Skinner: Oh, things have changed. There will be no mockery of your name, Mr. Glascock.

Bart: Seymour, this is an absent slip signed by Nelson's mother. And this is Nelson's English homework. Notice the identical elongated loops on the d's.
Principal Skinner: Forgery! So he didn't have leprosy!

Ooh, they used nylon rope this time. It feels so smooth against my skin. Almost sensuous.


Bart: Wow! Can I see your club?
Lou: It's called a baton, son.
Bart: Oh. What's it for?
Lou: We club people with it.

Since we have fifteen minute until recess, please put down your pencils and stare at the front of the room.

Miss Hoover

Question sixty. I prefer the smell of (a) gasoline, (b) French fries, or (c) bank customers.

Miss Hoover

Some of you may discover a wonderful vocation you'd never even imagined. Others may find out life isn't fair, in spite of your Masters from Bryn Mawr, you might end up a glorified babysitter to a bunch of dead-eyed fourth graders while your husband runs naked on a beach with your marriage counselor!


Edna: We're going to take a test.
Class: (sighs)
Hoover: We're going to take a test.
Lisa: All right, a test!

Cheif Wiggum: Looks like you bought yourself a lottery jail!
Lou: He's unconscious, sir.
Chief Wiggum: Ah, they can still hear things.

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