Moe: That's the stupidest story I've ever heard, and I've read the entire Sweet Valley High series.
Homer: Geez, Moe. You've been a real crank lately.
Moe: [takes out a shotgun] You take that back.
Homer: Now, you see. That's what I'm talkin' about. You're always pointing that shotgun at us.
Lenny: And callin' us dumbasses.
Carl: Which we are so not.
Lisa: It's not fair, Dad. Why should an animal die just because you and Moe are fighting?
Homer: It's the law. My hands are tied.
Homer: [to Moe] Well, you've turned into a big phony!
Moe: Hey, nobody calls Moe St. Cool a phony!
Homer: I'm sorry I shot you, Moe.
Moe: Aw, that's okay. It's like my dad always said, "Eventually, everybody gets shot."
[An eagle starts pecking at Moe's face]
Moe: Ow, ow! Not the face! [the eagle starts pecking at Moe's crotch] Ooh, ooh, okay the face! [the eagle starts pecking Moe's face again] Ooh. Whoa, that actually feels good after the...after the crotch.
[When Moe gives Homer some last-minute instructions]
Moe: And if anyone wants potato chips or anything fancy, tell 'em to go to Hell.
Homer: Can do. Now, don't you worry about a thing. [he gleefully turns on a beer tap, spilling the beer on the floor]
Moe: [shuts the tap off] Hey, what are you doing? I gotta pay for that!
Homer: No, Moe, you've got it all wrong. People buy beer from you.
Homer: [singing while walking to Moe's] I'm a-walking down the street, gonna open Moe's bar. I'm a-singing what I'm thinking [points to a dog] hey, look at that dog!
Carl: I don't get all this eyeball stuff. Uh, what are they supposed to represent? Uh, eyeballs?
Moe: It's po-mo! [Homer, Barney, Lenny, and Carl stare blankly] Post-modern! [Homer, Lenny, Barney, and Carl continue to stare blankly] Yeah, all right, weird for the sake of weird.
Homer, Barney, Carl, and Lenny: Oooh!
Homer: Uh, whatever, just give me a Duff.
Moe: Oh, we don't serve Duff no more. We got a Malaysian beer that's better than Duff. It's made out of soy sauce. [hands Homer a bottle]
Homer: Uh, whatever. Just give me a Duff.
Supermodel: After Chernobyl, my penis is falling off.
Moe: And "penis" is Russian for ...?
Marge: [to Homer] Running a bar is a full-time job and you don't even do your full-time job.
Homer: Well, when I'm passionate about something, I see it through to the end. [moves some boxes, discovering a half-finished robot]
Robot: Father, give me legs. [Homer tosses out the robot] Father! [Homer stares it down, and the robot drags himself away on the street on his "arms"]
Homer: [to Marge] Barkeep!
Marge: I thought this was gonna be your bar.
Homer: It's a family bar, right, kids? [scene shows Bart and Lisa washing glasses and cutting up lemons]
Lisa: Can we go to bed now?
Homer: As soon as you finish cutting up those lemons.
Lisa: But you're not even using them.
Homer: [in mock baby-talk] She's so sweepy, she doesn't even know what she's saying.
Carl and Lenny: Aww.
Moe: How could I toss my friends out into the cold? With no place to get liquored up?
Michael Stipe: (to Homer) You lied to us! [attacks Homer, but the other members of R.E.M. hold him back]
Mike Mills: Michael, no!
Peter Buck: That's not the R.E.M. way.
Michael Stipe: You're right. Let's recycle those shards and get out of here.
Moe: Listen, I don't like you, you don't like me, but we both want to stop Homer from shooting a turkey.
Lisa: You don't like me? I like you.
Moe: You do? Then I like you, too.
Lisa: [to Moe] How'd you get the bar back to normal so quickly, Moe?
Moe: It's a snap when you use certified contractors.
Bart: Like the ones found in your local yellow pages?