Beans are neither fruit nor musical

Lisa: Dad, as you know, we've been swimming. And we've developed a taste for it. We both agree that getting our own pool is the only way to go. Now before you respond, you must understand that your refusal woul result in months and months of, "Can we have a pool, Dad? Can we have a pool, Dad? Can we have a pool, Dad? Can we have a pool, Dad?"
Homer: I understand. Let us celebrate our new arrangement by the adding of chocolate to milk.

Marge: Bart, are all these children friends of yours?
Bart: Friends and well-wishers, yes.

Milhouse: Hey Nelson, he's really hurt. I think he broke his leg.
Nelson: I said, "Ha ha."

Marge: Maybe we should sepnd more time with Bart. He's becoming isolated and weird.

Flanders: I wish there was some other explanation for this, but there isn't. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer!
Bart: Then that's not the real Ned Flanders.
Flanders: I'm a murder-diddly-urdler!
Bart: If that's not Flanders, he's done his homework.

Bart: He's gonna kill Rod and Todd, too. That's horrible! {pause} In principle.

Lisa's Brain: They're only using you for your pool, you know.
Lisa: Shut up, brain! I've got friends now. I don't need you anymore.

Lisa: Mom, romance is dead. It was acquired in a hostile takeover by Hallmark and Disney, homogenized, and sold off piece by piece.

I am not the reincarnation of Sammy Davis Jr.

Homer: I'm taking a shortcut.
Marge: Homer, no. You're gonna get lost.
Homer: Trust me, Marge! With today's modern cars you can't get lost. What with all the silicon chips and such. {after the shortcut} Alright, we're here. Let us never speak of the shortcut again.

Marge: I'm so embarrassed I wish there was a hole I could just crawl into and die.
Storm Trooper: Okay, throw her in the hole!

Homer: But Marge, I was a political prisoner!
Marge: How were you a political prisoner?
Homer: I kicked a giant mouse in the butt! Do I have to draw you a diagram?!

Sideshow Bob: Attempted murder. Honestly, what is that? Do they give a Nobel Prize for "attempted chemistry"?

Sideshow Bob: That was a big mistake, Bart. No children have ever meddled with the Republican party and lived to tell about it.

Bart: Oh my god! The dead have risen and they're voting Republican!

Lionel Hutz: Mr. Mayor, is it true you rigged the election?
Sideshow Bob: No.
Lionel Hutz: Kids, help.

Marge: Hello once again. As usual, I must warn you all that this year's Halloween show is very, very scary, and those of you with young children may want to send them off for bed. {reading} Oh my! It seems the show is so scary that Congress won't even let us show it. Instead they've suggested the 1947 classic Glenn Ford movie, 200 Miles to Oregon.

Mr. Burns: That's odd. Usually the blood gets off on the second floor.

Willy thinking: Go easy on the wee one. His father's gonna go crazy and chop 'em all into haggis.
Bart: What's haggis?
Willy: You read my thoughts. You've got the shinning!
Bart: You mean "shining."
Willy: Shh! You want to get sued?

Homer: So what do you think, Marge? All I need is a title. I was thinking along the lines of "No TV and no beer make Homer... something something."
Marge: Go crazy?
Homer: Don't mind if I do!

Marge on a CB radio: Hello, police? This is Marge Simpson. My husband's on a murderous rampage. Over.
Chief Wiggum: Oh. Well thank god that's over. I was afraid there for a second.

Homer: Television! Teacher. Mother. Secret lover.

I will not send lard through the mail

Bart: That's no fair, Nelson. They didn't have the Kill-matic 3000 back then.
Nelson: Hey! Records from that era are spotty at best.

Lisa: I just think you and Jessica are too different from each other to get along. She's a sweet, kind reverend's daughter and you're the Devil's Cabana Boy.

Willie: The kilt was only for day-to-day wear. For battle, we donned a full length ball gown covered in sequins. The idea was to blind your opponent with luxury!

Mrs. Lovejoy: I didn't know rocket sled was an Olympic event.
Bart: Well no offense, lady, but what you don't know could fill a warehouse.

Marge: I guess we could get more involved in Bart's activities but then I'd be afraid of smothering him.
Homer: Yeah. And then we'd get the chair.
Marge: That's not what I meant.
Homer: It was, Marge. Admit it.

Bart: Jessica, I don't think we should hang out anymore. You're turning me into a criminal when all I want to be is a petty thug.

Ralph: Me fail English? That's unpossible!

Homer: Come on, guys. This bar is like a tavern to me.

Adding "just kidding" doesn't make it okay to insult the principal

Marge: Homer don't start stalking people again! It's so... illegal.

Grampa: Let's see... I'm an Elk, a Mason, a Communist... I'm the president of the Gay and Lesbian Alliance for some reason. Ah, here it is! The Stonecutters.

Number One (Patrick Stewart): Welcome to the club, Number 908. You have joined the Sacred Order of the Stonecutters, who since ancient times have split the rocks of ignorance that obscure the light of knowledge and truth. Now let's all get drunk and play ping pong!

Who controls the British crown / Who keeps the metric system down
We do! We do!
Who leaves Atlantis off the maps / Who keeps the martian under wraps
We do! We do!
Who holds back the electric car / Who makes Steve Guttenberg a star
We do! We do!
Who robs cave fish of their sight / Who rigs every Oscar night
We do! We do!

Number One: Homer Simpson, for your continuing and baffling desecration of our beloved sacred parchment, you are hereby banished from the Stonecutters forever.

Marge: You know, you are a member of a very exclusive club.
Homer: Black Panthers?
Marge: No!

"Bagman" is not a legitimate career choice

Al: Show up tomorrow, bring three rags. Oh and, ah, change your pants.
Homer: Why?
Al: When it happens, you'll know.

Mr. Burns: It's company policy to give you the plague.
Smithers: Uh sir, that's the plaque.

Kent Brockman: I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Democracy just doesn't work.

Kent Brockman: Now, over the years a newsman learns a number of things that for one reason or another he cannot report. It doesn't matter now, so... the following people are gay (names run by on screen).

Next time it could be me on the scaffolding

Homer: Clown college. You can't eat that.

Krusty: Now. When the wealthy dowager comes in the party's over right? Wrong! {he slams a pie in her face}
Homer writing: "Kill wealthy dowager".

Homer: Who am I clowning? I have no business being a clown. I'm leaving the clowning business to all the other clowns in the clowning business.

Marge: I'm not saying it won't work, I'm just saying it's dishonest.
Homer: Well if we agree then why are we arguing?!

Homer: Burkina Faso? Disputed Zone? Who called all these weird places?
Homer's Brain: Quiet. It might be you! I can't remember.
Homer: Naw, I'm going to ask Marge.
Homer's Brain: No, no! Why embarrass us both? Just write a check and I'll release some more endorphins.

Bart: Hey guys, just so you don't hear any wild rumors, I'm being indicted for fraud in Australia.
Homer: Phpt. That's no reason to block the TV.

Homer: My ears are burning.
Lisa: I wasn't talking about you, Dad.
Homer: No, my ears are really burning. I wanted to see inside, so I lit a Q-tip.

Bart: Look Boris, I think Ballet is for sissies.
Madame: Ballet is for the strong, the fierce, the determined! But for the Sissies? Never! Now. Put on this fuschiatard. You are a fairy.

Madame: Is something wrong, Mr Simpson?
Bart: I don't like wearing tights. ma'am.
Madame: But so many of your heroes wear tights. Batman for example... And... Magellan.

Supervisor: Wait a minute. Those are yours sir?
Homer: Yes. I am in flavor country.
Supervisor: Both of them?
Homer: It's a big country.
Supervisor: Ladies, I apologize. And you, sir, are worse than Hitler.

Bart: Oh please. This is senseless destruction with none of my usual social commentary.

Announcer: Your cable television is experiencing difficulties. Please do not panic. Resist the temptation to read or talk to loved ones. Do not attempt sexual relations, as years of TV radiation have left your genitals withered and useless.
Wiggum checking: Well I'll be damned.

Bart: Me and Santa's Little Helper used to be a team. But he never wants to play anymore since his bitch moved in.
Marge: Bart! Don't ever say that word again!
Bart: Well that's what she is. I looked it up.
Marge: Well I'm going to write the dictionary people and have that checked.

Burns: singing Some men hunt for sport, others hunt for food. The only thing I'm hunting for... is an outfit that looks good.
sung to "Be Our Guest"
See my vest, see my vest, made from real gorilla chest.
Feel this sweater, there's no better than authentic Irish Setter.
See this hat? 'Twas my cat. My eveningwear? Vampire bat.
These white slippers are albino African endangered rhino.
Grizzly bear underwear. Turtles' necks, I've got my share.
Beret of poodle on my noodle it shall rest.
Try my red robin suit, it comes one breast or two.
See my vest! See my vest! See my vest!
Like my loafers? Former gophers! It was that or skin my chauffeurs.
But a greyhound fur tuxedo would be best.
So let's prepare these dogs
Maid: Kill two for matching clogs!
Burns: See my vest! See my vest! Oh please won't you see my vest! {he finishes the song} I really like my vest.
Smithers: I gathered that.

Mr. Burns: I'll be taking my puppies back.
Lisa: But they're ours, you stole them from us!
Mr. Burns hands her a cell phone: Here's a phone. Call somebody who cares.
Lisa dials 9-1— Give me that!

Willie: Bonjour, ye cheese-eatin' surrender monkeys!

Brockman: Krusty the Klown staged a press conference today to defend himself against charges that his products are unsafe, his theme parks is a death trap and that he's marketing videos of Tonya Harding's wedding night.
Krusty: And I contend that those tourists were decapitated before they entered the Krustyland House of Knives.

Lisa: What happened to Mr. Murphy?
Nurse: I'm sorry, he passed away.

Moleman: Hello. This is Moleman in the Morning. Good Moleman to you.

Bleeding Gums Murphy: You made an old Jazz man happy, Lisa.

Lisa: I don't want you to go.
Bleeding Gums Murphy: Sorry, but I have to. Goodbye.
Lisa: Goodbye.
Bleeding Gums Murphy reappearing: Oh, what the heck! Once more from the top.

Smithers: Principal Skinner, this is your secretary. There is one last student here to see you.
Principal Skinner: That's odd. I don't have a secretary. Or an intercom.

Burns: I want that oil well. I've got a monopoly to maintain. I own the electric company. And the waterworks. Plus the hotel on Baltic Avenue.
Principal Skinner: That hotel's a dump and your monopoly's pathetic.

Burns: Pish posh. It'll be like taking candy from a baby. Hey, that sounds like a larf. Let's try it now.

Barney: These fumes aren't as fun as beer. Sure, I'm all dizzy and nauseous, but where's the inflated sense of self-esteem?