Marge: Bart... I'm going to get you..... some ice cream at the store since I'm saving so much money on Diet Cola!
Ned: Say your prayers, Simpson... Because the schools can't force you like they should!... Maude, these new finger razors make hedge trimming as much fun as sitting through church!
Edna: You're going to be my murder victim... BART! In our school production of Lizzy Borden, starring Martin Prince as Lizzy!
Martin: Forty whacks with a wet noodle, Bart!

This is the first time anyone has ever sat next to me since I successfully lobbied to have the school day extended by twenty minutes.

Martin: Although I'm sure I will receive a severe wedgie from my bus-mates, I must remind you that we should have been at school ten minutes ago.
Otto: Uh oh, better fasten your seatbelts little dudes.
Lisa: We don't have seatbelts.
Otto: Uh, well, then just try to go limp.

Dr. Pryor: Here's your scientifically selected career.
Janey: Architect.
Kid: Insurance salesman,
Ralph: Salmon gutter?
Milhouse: Military strongman.
Martin: Systems analyst. Systems analyst.
Dr. Pryor: Systems analyst.
Martin: All right!
Lisa: Homemaker?
Dr. Pryor: Mm-hm. It's like a mommy.
Bart: Police officer? Well, I'll be jiggered.

Martin: What is the matter with you?
Bart: It's my dad. Lying there on the couch, drinking a beer, staring at the TV... I've never seen him like that.

Martin: Milhouse, I'd like to express my appreciation for Saturday. Jelly bean basket, personalized noisemakers. But the little touches are what made it enduring!
Bart: What's he talking about?
Milhouse: Uh... Hey! Look at that dog! Isn't that something!
Bart: Wow, brown!

(Bart, Milhouse, and Martin discuss their ownership of the comic)
Martin: How about this, guys? Bart can have it Mondays and Thursdays, Milhouse will get it Tuesdays and Fridays, and yours truly will take it Wednesdays and Saturdays.
Bart: Perfect!
Milhouse: Wait a minute! What about Sundays?
Bart: (suspiciously) Yeah, what about Sundays?
Martin: Well, Sunday possession will be determined by a random number generator. I will take the digits 1 through 3, Milhouse will have 4 through 6, and Bart will have 7 through 9.
Bart: Perfect!
Milhouse: Wait a minute! What about 0?
Bart: (suspiciously) Yeah, what about 0?
Milhouse: Yeah!
Martin: Well, in the unlikely event of a 0, possession will be determined by rock scissors paper competition, best 3 out of 5, how's that?
(Bart and Milhouse agree.)

(Bart shows the whole classroom the tape for his project called, "How Kittens Are Born: The Ugly Truth")
Bart: and here comes Snowball II. This is the one we kept.
All: EWW!!
Bart: We were gonna keep the gray one, but the mother ate her.
All: EWWWWW!!
Martin: Mrs. Krabappel, he's traumatizing the children!
Mrs. Krabappel: As usual, I agree with you, Martin. Bart, shut that off and take your seat immediately!
Bart: Oh, look! This is really cool. When I hit reverse, I can make 'em go back in.
(The whole classroom screams)

Bart: I need you to help me get a passing grade.
Martin: Well, you do need someone's help to get a passing grade, but I don't know why that someone should be me.
Bart: Because I can make it so the other kids don't laugh at you so much.
Martin: They...laugh at me? I'd always considered myself rather popular.
Bart: You're not. Watch.
(Bart grunts as he pushes Martin to the ground and nearby kids laugh.)
Martin: But my--my speed with numbers, my years of service as a hall monitor, my prize-winning dioramas--these things mean nothing to them?
Bart: Perhaps another demonstration.
(Again Bart grunts as he pushes Martin to the ground and nearby kids laugh.)

(Martin gives a book report in front of class. Quoting Hemingway:)
Martin: "You're killing me, fish. Never have I seen a greater or more noble thing than you, brother. Come on and kill me. I do not care who kills who. To catch a fish, to kill a bull, to make love to a woman, to live." I thank you. (Bows)
(The classroom is stunned)
Mrs. Krabappel: Oh! Absolutely brilliant! There were moments I truly believed you were Hemingway. Bravo, Martin!
Martin: Oh, please, call me Papa.
(Bart places a ketchup packet on Martin's seat just before he sits down.)
Bart: A little ketchup for your buns, Papa?

Martin: As a natural enemy, I don't know why I should care, but the information pertaining to America's colonial period that you just received is erroneous.
Bart: So, you're saying--
Martin: A blindfolded chimp with a pencil in his teeth has a better chance at passing this test than you do.

Who would have thought that pushing a boy into the girls' lavatory could be such a thrill? The screams! The humiliation! The fact that it wasn't me! I've never felt so alive.