Marge: There's going to be twice as much love in this house as there is now!
Homer: We're going to start doing it in the morning?
Marge: I'm afraid we're going to need a bigger house.
Homer: No, we won't. I've got it all figured out. The baby can have Bart's crib and Bart'll sleep with us until he's 21.
Marge: Won't that warp him?
Homer: My cousin Frank did it.
Marge: You don't have a cousin Frank.
Homer: He became Francine back in '76. Then he joined that cult. I think his name is Mother Shabubu now.
Selma: Hey Bart, want a dollar? Uh uh uh, you know what I wanna hear.
Bart [singing]: I'm a little teapot short and stout, this is my handle this is my spout. The incy wincy spider went up the water spout...
Selma: Oh yeah! Love that spout medley.
Homer: Once we get the cats out of the way, it won't be too bad.
Real Estate Agent: Actually, according to the will, the cats own the house. You'd be their tenants!
Lisa: I wish we lived in the kitty house.
Bart: I could've trained them to be my unholy army of the night. Go, my pretties! Kill! Kill!
Real Estate Agent: Here we have beautiful hard wood floor, track lighting.
Marge: What's that stench?
[Marge opens up window to see a factory]
Sign: Rendering Plant
Real Estate Agent: Once you get used to the smell of melted hog fat, you'll wonder how you ever did without it
Homer: Mmmm...hog fat.
Marge: Let's keep looking.
[Cut to factory]
Factory worker: Ooh, do you smell that?
[Homer goes to the rendering plant to see the hog fat]
Homer: Dad, I have a problem.
Grampa: Why did you come to me? I really don't know nothin'. I used to get by on my looks. Now they're gone... withered away like an old piece of fruit. (sobs)
Homer: Are you done?
Grampa: No, not yet! I was voted the handsomest boy in Albany, New York!
Homer: Dad, I don't need advice! I want $15,000 to buy a home!
Grampa: Oh, well. All I own is this house, that I built with my own two hands!
Homer: You didn't build this house! You won it on a crooked 50's game show!
Grampa: I ratted on everybody and got off scot-free!
Grampa: All right, son, I'll sell this dump and write you a check.
Homer: Dad, first you gave me life, now you've given me a home for my family, I'd be honored if you came to live with us.
Grampa: Thank you!
Bart: [in the present] So how long before you shipped Grampa off to the old-folks home?
Homer: About three weeks.
Lisa: When do we get to my first word?
Homer: Your what?
Lisa: My first word!
Homer: Nah, you don't want to hear that story. I know. I'll tell you about the time I got locked in the bank vault with Mr. Mooney. It was another one of my harebrained schemes.
Homer: Wait a minute. That was "The Lucy Show."
Homer: Okay, where were we?
Bart: Mom was preggers and Dad threw all our money down a sink hole.
Ned: If you need anything just give a whistle.
Homer: I could use a Television tray.
Ned: Well, gee...
Ned: Uh, I just this minute bought it at the hardware...
Homer: You said "anything".
Ned: Heh, sure, you can borrow it for...a little while.
Homer: [in the present] And that little while is now 8 years and counting. Heh, heh, heh.
Bart [during his "terrible two's" phase; he's banging pans and chanting while Marge is resting in her bedroom with a washcloth on her forehead]: I am so great! I am so great! Everyone loves me, I am so great!
Marge: Honey, honey, honey, honey, honey. Will you please be quiet?
Bart: Quiet! Biet! Fiet! Ziet! Diet!
Marge: Bart, get out!
Homer: It's not easy to juggle a pregnant wife and a troubled child, but somehow I managed to fit in eight hours of TV a day.
Bart: Krusty funny!
Bart: I can't sleep, the clown'll eat me.
Marge: Homer, I think the baby is coming.
Homer: Wow. A baby and a free burger. Could this be the best day of my life?
TV Announcer: Next up, an hour-long episode of "Mama's Family."
Ned: We'll take very good care of your boy, Simpson. Enjoy the miracle of creation!
Homer: Shut up, Flanders.
Ned: Supper time, boys!
Todd: Oh boy: liver!
Rod: Iron helps us play.
Marge [about Bart after Lisa's born]: According to this magazine, Bart might be jealous of her.
Homer: Well, Bart can kiss my hairy yellow butt.
Marge: I saved this newspaper from the day Lisa was born.
Lisa: "Mondale to Hart: Where's the beef?"
Bart: "Where's the beef?" What the hell that's supposed to mean?
Homer: [laughs] "Where's the beef"...No wonder he won Minnesota.
Selma: The older they get, the cuter they ain't.
Dr. Hibbert: [at Lisa's checkup] [laughs] She has the relexes of a young Mary Lou Retton. Have a wowwipop. [gives Lisa one]
Bart: Can I have a lollipop?
Dr. Hibbert: Oh Bart, I'm afraid that was the last one. But I've got something even better for you: a rubella inoculation! [holds up a giant needle]
Bart: I wanna hold the baby. I wanna hold the baby.
Marge: I'm sorry, Bart, you're too little.
Homer: Here, Bart, you can hold my beer. [puts it on his head]
Krusty: YOU PEOPLE ARE PIGS! (sobs angrily) I am personally gonna spit in every fiftieth burger!
Homer: Ooh, I like those odds!
Evil Clown Bed: If you should die before you wake... (evil maniacal laugh)