Little Girl: I hope you feel better, Santa.
Homer: Oh, I will when Mrs. Claus' sisters get outta town. Thanks for listenin', kid.

(At Santa training class, Homer tries to recall all the names of Santa's reindeer.)
Homer: Um, Dasher. Dancer.
Instructor: Mm-hmm.
Homer: Prancer.
Instructor: Mm-hmm.
Homer: Nixon. Comet...Cupid. Donna Dixon?
Instructor: Sit down, Simpson.

Homer: Bart, did you hear that? What a name! "Santa's Little Helper." It's a sign. It's an omen.
Bart: It's a coincidence, dad.

Principal Skinner: The fifth grade will now favor us with a scene from Charles Dickens' Christmas Carol.
Homer: How many grades does this school have!?

If I was interested in fun, I would have ran the day you were born.

Homer: What should I buy first, a mirror that gives me advice or Hitler's baseball?
Mirror: My advice is to buy Hitler's baseball.

Any part of a cookie you can't eat is a waste of time.

Bart: Who the hell says pota-toe?
Homer: Song writers who are stuck for lyrics.

Homer: That is the most amazing doughnut I've ever tasted
Mr. Burns: Well, if you stay on with the Springfield nuclear plant, you could have one of these tasty beauties every day.
Lenny [about doughnut]: One of these every day might kill us.
Carl: Can we get a health plan to go with them?
Mr. Burns: Sure, you could have a health care or.... two donuts a day.

Bart: Why are great things always ruined by women: the army, Fantastic Four, think how awesome would American Idol be if it was just Simon and Randy?
Homer: You say that now, but when you're grown up, you'll just think it.

They took away our doughnuts at work! All I've had are my meals.

Grandpa: Why don't we let Homer tell the story.
Homer: Really, me? You mean it?
Grandpa: I think you're ready for your first ramble.
Homer: I've been waiting for this day for so long. The year is 1946, and in a world torn, a single flower blooms and that flower is an angry Japanese monster named Godzilla. How am I doing dad?
Grandpa: I'm hanging on every word.

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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