Lenny: I can't believe I'm spending half my Saturday picking up garbage. I mean, half these bottles aren't even mine!
Mr. Burns: Ahem. Let's have less conversation and more sanitation.
Carl: Hey, where's Homer? How'd he get out of this?
"Homer": [from the top of a cliff] Hey, everybody! Up here!
Smithers: Simpson, stop frolicking and get to work!
"Homer": Right away, Mr. Smithers. I'll just walk across these slippery rocks—aah! [falls]
Carl: Oh no! He's going over the falls!
Lenny: Oh good. He snagged that tree branch.
Carl: Oh no! The branch broke off!
Lenny: Oh good. He can grab onto them pointy rocks.
Carl: Oh no! Them rocks broke his arms and legs.
Lenny: Oh good. Those helpful beavers are swimming out to save him.
Carl: Oh no! They're biting him, and stealing his pants.
Smithers: Good Lord...he'll be sucked into the turbine! ["Homer" swirls around then gets sucked in; the workers gasp, then bow their heads]
Mr. Burns: [rolling down the window] Smithers, who was that corpse?
Smithers: Homer Simpson, Sir. [sniffs] One of the finest, bravest men ever to grace sector 7G. [sobs] [in a normal voice] I'll cross him off the list.
Reverend Lovejoy: Marge, we can't tell you how sorry we are.
Ned: You have our deepest condol-diddely-olences. [stammering] I'm sorry, I'm just nervous: I didn't mean any disrespect.
Marge: What are you talking about?
Ned: You know...Homer's passing. [Marge looks blankly] Away. [Marge looks blankly again] Into death.
Marge: What?! [looks at paper] That's ridiculous! Homer's not dead. He's right out back in the hammock. [they all go out back; the hammock is now empty]
Ned: Oh, Marge, of course Homer's alive: he's alive in all our hearts.
Maude: Yes, Marge. I can see him.
Lisa: [skips by happily] Hi everybody!
Reverend Lovejoy: Marge, I'm going to give you the card of our juvenile counselor.
[When Patty and Selma come by the Simpsons' home with a tombstone for Homer]
Marge: A tombstone?!
Patty: It came with the burial plot, but that's not important: the important thing is, Homer's dead.
Selma: We've been saving for this since your wedding day.
Marge: Get out of here, you ghouls! [shuts the door] Ay-yi-yi-yi-yi.
[When the power goes out and Marge goes to the window and sees a workman cutting the lines]
Marge: Uh, excuse me! Sir? I think there's been a mistake.
Workman: Oh, no, no mistake. Your electricity's in the name of Homer J. Simpson, deceased. The juice stays off until you get a job or a generator. Oh, and, uh, my deepest sympathies.
Homer: That's my name.
Marge: When I asked you if that dummy was to fake your own death, you told me no. You go downtown first thing in the morning and straighten this out.
[Homer goes to the Springfield Hall of Records]
Homer: Listen here: my name is Homer J. Simpson. You guys think I'm dead, but I'm not. Now I want you to straighten this out without a lot of your bureaucratic red tape and mumbo-jumbo!
Bureaucrat: [typing on the computer] OK, Mr. Simpson, I'll just make the change here... and you're all set.
Homer: I don't like your attitude, you water-cooler dictator. What do you have in that secret government file anyway? I have a right to read it.
Bureaucrat: [spins the computer around] You sure do.
Homer: [reads] "Wife: Marjorie. Children: Bartholomew, Lisa" -- aha! See? This thing is all screwed up! Who the heck is Margaret Simpson?
Bureaucrat: Uh, your youngest daughter.
Homer: [mocks] "Uh, your youngest daughter". Well how about this? This thing says my mother's still alive; she died when I was a kid! [goes to the window] See that stone angel up there? That's my mother's grave. My dad points it out every time we drive by.
Bureaucrat: Mr. Simpson, uh...maybe you should actually go up there.
[Homer goes to see his mother's "grave"]
Homer: Mom, I'm sorry I never come to see you. I'm just not a cemetery person. "Here lies" -- Walt Whitman?! Damn you, Walt Whitman! I hate you, Walt! Freakin! Whitman! Leaves of grass, my ass!
Homer: I thought you were dead!
Mother Simpson: I thought you were dead!
Mother Simpson: Homer, you grew up so handsome.
Homer: Some people say I look like Dan Aykroyd. I can't believe you're here! Dad always told me you died while I was at the movies.
Mother Simpson: Oh, my poor baby. You must have been so upset. But I suppose Abe has his reasons.
Homer: Well, where have you been all this time?
Mother Simpson: It's...a very complicated story. Let's just enjoy this moment.
Homer: Ma, there's something you should know about me: I almost always spoil the moment. [a pelican lands on his head and spits a fish into his pants] I'm sorry.
Mother Simpson: That's OK, darling: it wasn't your fault.
Homer: Hey, everybody! I've got a big surprise for you! Presenting...my mother!
[everyone drops their food and talks incredulously]
Mother Simpson: [awkwardly] Hello.
Lisa: This is so weird. It's like something out of Dickens or "Melrose Place."
Bart: Where have you been, Granny? Did they freeze you or something?
Mother Simpson: Oh, my, such clever grandchildren. So full of questions and bright, shiny eyes.
Marge: I don't know what to say: I finally have a mother-in-law. [laughs nervously] No more living vicariously through my girlfriends. [laughs more, then coughs]
Bart: Hey, since you were a no-show at all the big moments of my life, you owe me years of back presents, Christmases, report cards (grabs a calculator) Hmm, 75 bucks a pop plus interest and penalties…you owe me $22,000.
Homer: I'll Kwanzaa you! (strangles Bart)
Mother Simpson: Homer, don't be so hard on little… (whispers) what is his name?
Homer: This is my room, and this is my dresser. It's where I keep my shirts when I'm not wearing them.
Mother Simpson: Oh, yes, right in the drawers. [they both laugh]
Homer: [sighing] You remembered. Oh, I've missed moments like this... Mom.
Mother Simpson: I saw all your awards, Lisa. They're mighty impressive.
Lisa: Aw, I just keep them out to bug Bart, heh.
Mother Simpson: Don't be bashful. When I was your age, kids made fun of me because I read at the 9th grade level.
Lisa: Me too!
Homer: [walks on his hands] Hey, Mom! Look at me! Look at what I can do!
Mother Simpson: I see you, Homer. That's very nice. [to Lisa] Although I hardly consider "A Separate Peace" the ninth-grade level.
Lisa: Shyeah, more like preschool.
Mother Simpson: I hate John Knowles.
Lisa: Me too. [they both laugh, then sigh]
Homer: Mom! You're not looking!
Mother Simpson: You know, Lisa, I feel like I have an instant rapport with you.
Lisa: You didn't dumb it down. You said "rapport."
(A police cruiser rolls down the street)
Mother Simpson: Gotta run! Grandma stuff! [runs in the house; Lisa looks suspicious]
[Bart and Lisa are downstairs in the laundry room]
Lisa: [turns on dryer] There, now no one should be able to hear us.
Lisa: [turns off dryer] All right, we don't need the dryer.
Lisa: Just shut up and listen! There's something fishy about Grandma: whenever we ask her where she's been all this time, she changes the subject. And just now, when a police car drove by, she ran into the house.
Bart: Yeah, I don't trust her either. When I was going through her purse, look what I found! [hands Lisa some driver's licenses]
Lisa: [reads] Mona Simpson...Mona Stevens...Martha Stewart...Penelope Olsen...Muddy Mae Suggins? These are the calling cards of a con artist.
Homer: Woo hoo! I'm so glad to have my mom back. I never realized how much I missed her!
Marge: [pause] She's nice.
Marge: I just don't think you should get too excited about the woman who abandoned you for 25 years. You could get hurt again.
Homer: First, it wasn't 25 years, it was 27 years. And second, she had a very good reason.
Marge: Which was...?
Homer: [pause] I dunno. I guess I was just a horrible son and no mother would want me.
Marge: Oh, Homie, come on. You're a sweet, kind, loving man. I'm sure you were a wonderful son!
Homer: [unhappily] Then why did she leave me?
Marge: Let's find out.
Marge: Mother Simpson, we'd like to ask you a few questions about your past.
Bart: Spill it, Muddy Mae, or we're calling the cops!
Mother Simpson: Please don't.
Lisa: All right, then we'll call your husband, Grampa!
Mother Simpson: No! I'll talk. I'll tell you everything I've wanted to tell you.
[In a flashback from the 60's. A young Homer is playing "Operation."]
Young Homer: "Take out wrenched ankle." [gets electrocuted] Mom! Mom! Mooom!
Mother Simpson: [runs in] Oh, my little Homey bear. [kisses him] Time for bed.
Young Homer: [getting in bed] Sing me my bedtime song, Mom.
Mother Simpson: [singing] Ooey, gooey, rich and chewy inside. Golden flaky, tender caky outside. Wrap the inside in the outside, is it good?
Young Homer: Darn tootin'.
Mother Simpson & Young Homer [singing]: Doing the big Fig Newton! Here's the tricky part.
[Young Homer falls asleep]
Mother Simpson: Abe, isn't Homer cute?
Grampa: Probably. I'm trying to watch the Super Bowl. If people don't support this thing, it might not make it.
Howard Cosell: [on TV] Joe Willy Namath, swaggering off the field, his sideburns an apogee of sculpted sartorium. The foppish follicles pioneered by Ambrose Burnside, Appomattox 1865.
Mother Simpson: [looking at Joe Namath] His wild, untamed facial hair revealed a new world of rebellion of change. A world where doors were open for women like me. But Abe was stuck in his button-down plastic-fantastic Madison Avenue scene.
Grampa: Look at them sideburns! He looks like a girl. Now, Johnny Unitas. There's a haircut you could set your watch to.
Hippies: [chanting] Anthrax, gangrene, swimmer's ear! Get your germ lab out of here!
Hippies: Hey, hey, Mr. Burns! Enough already with the germs!
Mr. Burns: [from a window above] Ho, their flower power is no match for my glower power! [glowers and the crowd disperses]
Chief Wiggum: [below, guarding the doors] Well that's some nice glowering, Mr. B.
Hippie: When this baby goes off, Burns' lab is going to be history, man—germ history [laughs] Oh man, I got the munchies.
Mr. Burns: [to Mother Simpson] You just made a very big mistake. You'll spend the rest of your life in pri...
[Chief Wiggum slams the door open and crushes Mr. Burns behind it]
Chief Wiggum: My asthma's gone! Listen to me breathe. [snorts] Waaah! [snorts] Waaah!
Kenny Brocklestein: [on TV] Only one member of the Springfield Seven was identified. She's been described as a woman in her early 30's, yellow complexion, and may be extremely helpful. For Channel Six News, I'm Kenny Brockelstein.
[Mother Simpson walks into Homer's room while he's asleep]