That’s right…I did the iggy!
Mr. Simpson you are suffering from PSI. Poor Self Esteem. Wait a minute, that’s not “i”. EVERY SIGN IS WRONG!
A test score of 400 would require a donation of new football uniforms, 300, a new dormitory. In your son’s case, we would require an international airport.
The Monkees weren’t about music, Marge. They were about rebellion! And political and social upheaval!
Come see the battle to determine what the greatest nation on this planet is: Portugal or Mexico.
Just because I don’t care doesn’t mean I don’t understand.
Ahhh! Free and easy, Lis’! There’s nothing like an unfurnished basement for pure comfort.
Damn it, Smithers, this isn’t rocket science; it’s brain surgery!
By the way, I’m aware of the irony of appearing on television in order to decry it so don’t bother pointing that out.
Marge, I’m not going to lie to you.
:: stares at her ::
Thaaaat’s borrrr-ing. You’re boring everybody. Quit boring everyone!
Not a quarter – he’ll be dancing for hours!
One of my favorite Simpsons sight gags: Bart is the young Mozart, and we see the outside of the Vienna Opera House, with two grand doors. One is labeled FOPS and the other, DANDIES.
Seymour needs the toilet! His bladder is full. Full of urine!
Oh, my God! Space aliens! Don’t eat me. I have a wife and kids. Eat them!
What? Bullfrogs?! That’s an odd name, I’d have called them chazwazzers!
No jury in the world is going to convict a baby. Well, maybe Texas.
Good for you, son. Giving up smoking is one of the hardest things you’ll ever have to do. Have a dollar.
Hi, you’ve reached the Corey hot-line. $4.95 a minute. Here are some words that rhyme with Corey: Gory. Story. Allegory. Montessori.
Red room. Red room. Over there