Difference between revisions of "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield/Quotes"

Latest revision as of 23:24, October 15, 2021

Marge: Homer, I don't think you should wear a short-sleeve shirt with a tie.

Homer: Ohhh, but Sipowicz does it.

Marge: If Detective Sipowicz jumped off a cliff, would you do that too?

Homer: [as he walks away] Ohhh, I wish I was Sipowicz.

Mr. Burns: Quit cogitating, Steinmetz, and use an open-faced club... a sand wedge!

Homer: Mmm... open faced club sandwich.

Evelyn: Attendant, I'd like some gas.

Apu: Yes, I'm sorry, I do not speak English, okay.

Evelyn: But you were just talking to—

Apu: Yes, yes. Hot dog, hot dog. Yes sir, no sir. Maybe, okay.

Country Club Gate Attendant: Name, please.

Homer: Simpson family.

Marge: [leans over to tell Gate Attendant] We're not poor!

[Homer, Bart, and Lisa all turn to look at her]

Marge: [to them] Well, we're not.

[Homer is surreptitiously changing his score for the hole]

Tom Kite: The traditional way to cheat in golf is to lower your score.

Homer: That's one way...

Tom Kite: I'm PGA Tour Pro Tom Kite. How 'bout I give you a few pointers on your game.

Tom Kite: [continuing] Now, you don't want to overthink.

Homer: Not an issue.

Tom Kite: Keep your head down.

Homer: [raising his head] Huh?

Tom Kite: Pretend there's no one else here. [Homer scratches his butt with the club and burps]...And just go at your own pace. [Homer hits the ball very close to the hole]...Wow, very impressive. You're a natural, Mr. Simpson.

Homer: Really?

Tom Kite: Uh huh. All you need is your own set of clubs, and stay the hell out of my locker!... you can keep the shoes!

Little Girl: [to server at buffet table] Fritz you idiot! I didn't order a baloney sandwich, I ordered an abalone sandwich! [she throws it at him]

Mr. Burns: [arriving at the gas station in a Ford Quadricycle, to Marge] You there, fill it up with petroleum distillate, and re-vulcanize my tires, post-haste!

Mr. Burns: Who is that lavatory links man, Smithers?

Smithers: Homer Simpson, sir. One of the fork and spoon operators from sector 7-G.

Mr. Burns: Well, he's certainly got a loose waggle. Perhaps I've finally found a golfer worthy of a match with Monty Burns, eh?

Smithers: His waggle is no match for yours, sir. I've never seen you lose a game. Except for that one in '74 when you let Richard Nixon win. That was very kind of you, sir.

Mr. Burns: Oh, he just looked so forlorn, Smithers, with his [imitating Nixon] "Oh, I can't go to prison, Monty. They'll eat me alive!" [Smithers laughs] I wonder if this Homer Nixon is any relation?

Smithers: Unlikely, sir. They spell and pronounce their names differently.

Mr. Burns: Bah! Schedule a game and I'll ask him myself.

Bart: Let's go to the Sharper Image. They've got a TV shaped like a '50s diner.

Lisa: No, let's go to the Nature Company. They've got a TV assembled by Hopi Indians.

Homer: [gasps] Look at these low, low prices on famous brand-nam electronics!

Bart: Don't be a sap, Dad. These are just crappy knock-offs.

Homer: Pfft. I know a genuine Panaphonics when I see it. And look there's Magnetbox and Sorny.

Homer: [whistles at Marge in her new Chanel outfit] You look great.

Marge: Really? You like it? Oh, I'd love to wear this someplace special.

Homer: Spurlock's Cafeteria, it is.

Homer: What's the point of going out? We're just gonna wind up back here anyway.

Evelyn: [to Marge] Automotive skills and fashion sense. Why, you've come a long way from the girl I knew nothing about in high school.

Marge: We ran with our different crowds. You had your debutante balls and... skinny-dipping, and I had my... home shoe repair course.

Lisa: Do I have to go? That country club is a hotbed of exclusionist snobs and status-seeking social climbers.

Marge: I've told you, I don't like you using the word "hotbed". Please, Lisa, we so rarely get to do things like this. And everybody, everybody please be on your best behavior. Bart, no grifting.

Bart: [puts a deck of cards in his sleeve] Aw, raspberries.

Susan: I get the sneaking suspicion that L.L. Bean and Eddie Bauer are selling me the same honey.

Marge: I get food in the mail, but in a different way. Every month, Good Housekeeping arrives in my mailbox bursting with recipes. Sometimes the most satisfying meal is the one you cook yourself.

[pause from the ladies]

Patricia: Mmm. That's so true, Marge. One night, Wif and I came home late. We decided not to wake Iris, so instead, we microwaved our own soup. [laughs] [the ladies murmur and agree] Of course, it was a horrible mess, but Iris didn't mind cleaning it up.

Bart: That place is weird. A man in the bathroom kept handing me towels until I paid him to stop.

Homer: [holding a stack of towels] Should have held out longer, boy.

Lisa: The rich are different from you and me

Marge: Yes, they're better.

[Homer, Bart and Lisa all stare at Marge in disbelief.]

Marge: [thinking] Oh, we've got a winning hand, we can take the rest of the tricks [camera pans higher up] [thinking] Oh, we'd better be careful. The purpose of this game is to make friends. You don't make friends by winning [camera pans higher up] [thinking] Still, there's nothing more popular than a gracious winner.

[camera pans to the top of Marge's hair]

Top of Marge's hair: [thinking] Don't ask me, I'm just hair. Your head ended 18 inches ago.

Homer: [reading a book about golf] Marge, did you know that Kennedy and Lincoln had the same handicap?

Marge: Homer, please. I have to alter this suit so it looks different for tomorrow.

Homer: [yawns] Just slap some bumper stickers on it and come to bed, will you, Marge?

Lisa: [riding on a pony] Mom, look, I found something more fun than complaining!

Roberta: Love your outfit, Marge. The vest says "Let's have lunch" but the culottes say "You're paying".

Marge: I'll be there with bells on!

Susan: [not understanding, or pretending not to understand, the idiom] Bells? Where exactly will you be attaching them to that tattered Chanel suit?

Evelyn: Don't worry, Marge. Her idea of wit is nothing more than an incisive observation humorously phrased and delivered with impeccable timing.

Homer: Oh, this game could mean big things for me, Marge. If I beat Mr. Burns, I mean really wallop him bad, I'm sure to get that big raise I've been gunning for!

Marge: All right, all right, but if you win, don't make a scene and dance around with your "woo-hoo"s, please! We can't afford a single slip up. They're judging us.

[Homer kisses Marge and Lisa, who is on the bed]

Lisa: Mom, did you like horses when you were my age, 'cause I--

Marge: I don't know. Look, tonight is very important. Mommy has to alter her suit so it looks like a totally new suit.

Lisa: [talking fast] Mom, do you want to know the fifteen reasons I like horses better than cars? One, a horse never has to--

Marge: I really need to concentrate on this, Lisa, would you mind just--

Lisa: You know how a horse goes like this? [jumps up and down on the bed] Mom, like this!

Marge: I've already altered this so many times, it's not impossible--

Lisa: Whinny, whinny! Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mo-m!

Marge: [yelling] LISA, PLEASE!! [pause; Lisa leaves the room]

Marge: Miss? Miss? Do you have a Chanel suit or any other high quality clothes?

Saleswoman: No, ma'am, but we do have a shipment of slightly burned Sears' active wear coming in this afternoon.

Marge: Oh, I give up.

Cletus: [to Saleswoman] What time and how burnt?

Krusty: [referring to his being Jewish, after being beaned by a club and stepped on by Homer] I knew my kind wasn't welcome here.

Marge: Why do you have to question everything I do?

Lisa: You look nice is all.

Marge: Homer, what are you doing?

Homer: I'm driving up to the main building. They got valet parking.

Marge: We can't drive this up there. They'll see the dent. They'll see the coat hanger antenna. Stop the car, we're walking.

Homer: But Marge, valets! Maybe for once, someone will call me "sir" without adding, [in an undertone] "You're making a scene."

Homer: I'm going to regale everyone with my anecdote. You know, the one I tried to say on the radio? Heh, heh. Who's going to "bleep" me this time?

Bart: I'm going to pose as an Italian count and get some old lady to leave me all her money.

Lisa: I'm going to ask people if they know their servant's last names, or in the case of butlers, their first.

Marge: No, no, no! Not tonight! No vulgarity, no mischief, no politics. Just be good!

Bart: I'm sorry, mom. I'll behave.

Lisa: I won't say anything controversial.

Homer: I just won't say anything, okay, honey?

Maggie: [sucks her pacifier]

[Marge glares at her; silence]

Homer: You kids should thank your mother. Now that she's a better person, we can see how awful we really are.

Marge: Homey, I like your in-your-face humanity. I like the way Lisa speaks her mind. I like Bart's....[Bart smiles, but it fades] ...I like Bart. [Bart smiles again]

Krusty Burger Boy: [mopping] Hey, did you guys just come from the prom?

Bart: Sort of.

Marge: But, you know, we realized we're more comfortable in a place like this.

Krusty Burger Boy: [nods] Man, you're crazy. This place is a dump!