Dearest Edna, I must leave you. Why, I cannot say. Where, you cannot know. How I will get there, I haven't decided yet. But one thing I can tell you, any time I hear the wind blow it will whisper the name Edna. And so let us part with a love that will echo through the ages. ---Woodrow
Bart: Hey, Mom. Did you save Dad's love letters? Marge: Of course I saved them. Well actually, there's only one. It's more of a love postcard from some brewery he visited. Homer: Maybe it's the beer talking, Marge. But you've got a butt that won't quit. They've got these big chewy pretzels here (undecipherable slurring) five dollars?! Get outta here! Bart: Wow, the side of Dad I've never seen.