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?

(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.

Don't be discouraged, son. I bet Einstein turned himself all sorts of colors before he invented the light bulb.

Homer

Dr. Pryor: The child is not supposed to know his own IQ, of course, but, uh, you can see it's beyond the range of any doubt.
(Dr. Pryor hands Homer a slip of paper with Bart's IQ on it.)
Homer: Nine hundred and twelve!
Dr. Pryor: Uh, no. You have it upside-down. It's two hundred and sixteen.

Now go on, boy, and pay attention. Because if you do, one day you may achieve something that we Simpsons have dreamed about for generations. You may outsmart someone.

Homer

(In science lab, Bart is about to mix two substances.)
Ms. Melon: (to Bart) Say, what's that? It looks dangerous.
Bart: Well, it's really pretty top secret, ma'am.
Ms. Melon: All right, keep going. But you do know what happens when you mix acids and bases, right?
Bart: 'Course I do.
(Bart pours one substance into another, it explodes and covers the whole room in the yellow mixture.)
Bart: Sorry.

(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.

Milhouse: Get a load of that quote-unquote Santa.
Lewis: I can't believe those kids are falling for it.
Bart: Hey, Milhouse, I dare you to sit on his lap.
Milhouse: Oh, yeah. Well I dare you to yank his beard off.
Bart: Ah, touché.

Barney: I got me a part time job working as a Santa down at the mall.
Homer: Wow, can I do that?
Barney: I dunno, they're pretty selective. (Barney belches loudly)

Patty: It's almost nine o'clock.
Selma: Where is Homer anyway?
Patty: It's so typical of the big doofus to spoil it all.
Lisa: What Aunt Patty?
Patty: Oh, nothing, dear. I'm just trashing your father.

Patty: Hello, Marge. It's Patty. Selma and I couldn't be more excited about seeing our baby sister for Christmas Eve.
Marge: Well, Homer and I are looking forward to your visit too.
(Homer makes a gagging noise.)
Patty: Somehow I doubt that Homer is excited. Of all the men you could've married, I don't know why you picked one who is always so rude to us.

Bart: Ah, come on, Dad. This can be the miracle that saves the Simpsons' Christmas. If TV has taught me anything, it's that miracles always happen to poor kids at Christmas. It happened to Tiny Tim, it happened to Charlie Brown, it happened to the Smurfs, and it's gonna happen to us!
Homer: Well, okay, let's go. Who's Tiny Tim?

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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