[crossing the "Eliminator" rope climb]
Lisa: If only I were in Springfield, all my friends would be cheering me on... oh, God, I'm delirious.
Lisa: I can't do this, Bart. I'm not strong enough.
Bart Simpson: I thought you came here looking for a challenge.
Lisa: Duh! A challenge I could do!
Firing Range Instructor: Since you've attended public schools, I'm going to assume you're already proficient with small arms. So, we'll start you off with something a little more advanced.
[hands Bart a grenade launcher]
Bart Simpson: Wow.
[Bart begins firing away at his targets, destroying four. The last grenade flies off into the distance]
Firing Range Instructor: Four out of five, Simpson. Impressive. But you missed your last target.
Bart Simpson: [slyly] Did I?
[Springfield Elementary. Principal Skinner is standing next to the smoldering crater that was his car]
Nelson Muntz: HA-HA!
Lisa: Solitude never hurt anyone. Emily Dickinson lived alone, and she wrote some of the most beautiful poetry the world has ever known... then went crazy as a loon.
[about Bart's incorrigible behavior]
Chief Wiggum: You know, you do have options. For example, there are behavior-modifying drugs. How wedded are you to the Bart you know?
Homer Simpson: Not very.
[Bart is shipped off to military school]
Mrs. Krabappel: [pouring champagne] You dream about this day for so long, then when it comes, you don't know what to say.
Principal Skinner: Edna, your tears say more than words ever could.
Marge Simpson: Well, it certainly was nice of you to accept Bart in the middle of a semester.
The Commandant: Fortunately, we've had a couple of recent freak-outs, so that freed up a couple of bunks.
Bart Simpson: "Freak-outs?"
[the Simpsons pass a literature class at the academy]
Cadet in Poetry Class: Truth is beauty, beauty truth, sir!
Lisa: They're discussing poetry! Oh, they never do that at my school.
Poetry Instructor: But the truth can be harsh and disturbing! How can that be considered beautiful?
Marge Simpson: Well, they sure sucked the fun out of that poem.
Bart Simpson: Please don't make me stay, Dad. I'll do anything you say. I'll find religion! I'll be good sometimes!
[during a hazing in the rain]
Cadet: What's the matter? Don't girls like doing push-ups in the mud?
Lisa: Is there any answer that I can give that won't result in more push-ups?
[the platoon huddles]
[after Lisa's poor performance at the firing range]
Rangemaster: Maybe you should just learn to use this.
[hands Lisa a whistle]
Rangemaster: If there's a war, just blow on it, and I'll come help you.
Lisa: Maybe everyone would be better off if I just quit.
Bart Simpson: But if you quit, it'd be like an expert knot tier quitting a knot-tying contest right in the middle of tying a knot.
Lisa: Why'd you say that?
Bart Simpson: I dunno, I was just looking at my shoelaces.
[nearing the end of the year]
The Commandant: But these skills are nothing without courage and stamina. Traditionally, the academy tested these virtues by pitting you against each other in a two-day battle royale.
[the cadets gasp]
The Commandant: That was prior to 1957, thank you very much State Supreme Court...
Lisa: [reading a note from Bart] "Meet me at the Eliminator after lights out. P.S. The cadets are planning to throw their meatballs at you." Oh...
[holds her tray up just in time to deflect a fusillade of meatballs]
Homer Simpson: [nervously] Well, Bart, did you make sure to return all the guns?
Bart Simpson: Sir! Yes, sir! Luckily, I am now trained in six additional forms of unarmed combat, sir!
The Commandant: The wars of the future will not be fought on the battlefield or at sea. They will be fought in space, or possibly on top of a very tall mountain. In either case, most of the actual fighting will be done by small robots. And as you go forth today remember always your duty is clear: To build and maintain those robots.
Lisa: [after conquering the "Eliminator" rope climb] I did it! I did it!
Bart Simpson: Way to go, Lis! I'm so proud of you!
Bart Simpson: You can put your arms down now, Lis.
Lisa: I can't, they're stuck!
The Commandant: Franklin, you're no longer the girliest cadet here.
Franklin: [in a feminine voice] Well. We'll see about that.
[Bart's latest prank has shattered windows all over the city]
Homer Simpson: [shouting] You've really done it this time, Bart! You're in for the punishment of a lifetime!
Lisa: [shouting] When do you expect the ringing will stop?
Chief Wiggum: [checking his watch, shouting] In about ten to fifteen seconds!
Marge Simpson: [shouting] I certainly hope-!
Marge Simpson: -so!
[covers her mouth, embarrassed; normal voice]
Marge Simpson: That's better.
The Commandant: Consequently, now no cadet can receive a passing grade for the academic year without first conquering this. Meet "the Eliminator." That's a 150-foot hand-over-hand crawl across a 60-gauge hemp-jute line with a blister factor of 12. The rope is suspended a full 40 feet over a solid British acre of old-growth Connecticut Valley thorn bushes. Gentlemen, welcome to flavor country.