Bart Simpson: [apologizing to Lisa] It was an accident! I didn't mean to kill our ants.
Homer Simpson: [passing by] Patty and Selma are dead? Whoo hoo! Double funeral!
[Dances and sings]
Bart Simpson: Dad, before you jump to any conclusions...
Homer Simpson: Oh, please tell me they suffered.
[Patty and Selma appear]
Homer Simpson: G-G-G-hags!
Chief Wiggum: Well, Mr. Burns, care to explain how this miracle of measure and harmony came into your possession?
Mr. Burns: Well, I... You see... Is it a crime to enjoy nice things, and then steal them from a public museum, where any gum-chewing monkey in a Tufts University jacket can come and gawk at them? I think not!
Mr. Burns: [voiceover, as Smithers leaves the prison] This would have been the perfect time for it to start raining. Oh, what the hell? I'm telling the story.
[It starts raining]
Mr. Burns: Hmm, not dramatic enough.
[the rain turns to snow]
Mr. Burns: Frostbite took his nose.
[Smither's nose falls off]
Mr. Burns: Excellent.
Bart Simpson: Mom, where are you going?
Marge Simpson: Shopping. Whenever the town riots, the malls are empty. You stay here while I'm gone.
Bart Simpson: Oh, I hate being stuck inside.
Marge Simpson: You can play with your sister.
Bart Simpson: Mom, you don't play with Lisa, you play despite her.
Prison Guard: Time for your cavity search.
Mr. Burns: Oh, I haven't had a cavity in over forty years.
Prison Guard: I wasn't talking about your teeth.
Mr. Burns: Nor was I.
Bart Simpson: Shall we let her live the rest of her life out in the wild, or in captivity like Grandpa?
Grampa Simpson: Hey, in my mind, I'm free!
Dream Grampa: [Inside a cage in Grandpa's mind] No you're not, ya idjit.
Grampa Simpson: Oh.
Mr. Burns: The plant's first annual Fourth of July company picnic is this upcoming weekend.
Homer Simpson: Woo-hoo!
Mr. Burns: No, you misunderstand. The picnic is for me. You will all be spending our Day of Independence slaving away at my mansion under the hot summer sun, without pay, water, or gratitude.
Homer Simpson: D'oh!
Mr. Burns: Yes, duh-oh indeed.
Mr. Burns: Break a leg, everyone.
[to passing employee, handing him a hammer]
Mr. Burns: I said break a leg.
[Employee breaks own leg with hammer]
Mr. Burns: My God, man! That was a figure of speech. You're fired!
Lenny Leonard: Things have changed in the outside while you were gone. Wealthy people can beat the system now.
Carl Carlson: They don't have parking meters anymore. Now there's a little thing you swipe your credit card into.
Homer Simpson: The war is over and the future won. Past never even had a chance, man.
Burns' Cellmate: Son, have you ever heard the story of Jesus Christ?
Fat Tony: Well, I am Italian, but no.
Carl Carlson: Here's you spare ribs, Mr. Burns. Just like you ordered it.
Mr. Burns: Spare ribs, eh? I've played a round of tenpins in my day, and to me, spare reeks of second best. Get me ten frames of strike ribs at once! And you, call my doctor and ask him why I would ask for something so absurd as strike ribs.
Lenny Leonard: Yes, sir.
Carl Carlson: Say, Lenny. Care for some Chateau La Mondotte St. Emilion?
Lenny Leonard: That's a regular size bottle. I'm drinking Jeroboams.
Homer Simpson: I'm drinking Melchizedeks!
Lenny Leonard: Homer, that's a $60,000 bottle.
Homer Simpson: Woo-hoo! I'm drinking my salary!
Carl Carlson: Wait a minute. Doesn't some of that go to taxes?
Homer Simpson: Hey, you're right.
[Pours wine on floor]
Homer Simpson: Stupid government, taking my hard earned stolen wine and making me spill it on the floor.
Lenny Leonard: I hear that!
Mr. Burns: Surprised? Me, C. Montgomery Burns locked up like an animal? How do I came to this puzzling turn of events? I'll explain it, by thinking about it to myself.
Burns' First Cellmate: Hiya, pal! I guess we're just two white-collar criminals.
Mr. Burns: Oh, thank God. I thought you might be a hardened tattooed criminal.
Burns' First Cellmate: Nah, they don't turn out too many of those at Dartmouth.
Mr. Burns: Dartmouth? Guard, get me away from this brute! Get me out this instant!
Burns' First Cellmate: Got my Masters at Virginia, the public Ivy.
Mr. Burns: Guard!
Moe Szyslak: Throwing stuff! Turn your protest into a riot!
Milhouse Van Houten: How much for a tomato?
Moe Szyslak: Fresh is one dollar, rotten is two bucks.
Kirk Van Houten: Son, do you really need the rotten one?
[Milhouse looks at him eagerly]
Kirk Van Houten: Oh, all right. But don't tell your mother.