Homer: Marge, can't we get some clear plates? I can't see the TV!
Bart: If you really wanted us to be neater, you'd serve us out of one long bowl.
Marge: You're talking about a trough. We're not going to eat from a trough. And another thing, it's only 5:15. Why are you in your underwear?
Bart: Hey, this ain't the Ritz.
Marge: I'm going into the dining room to have a conversation. Anyone who wants to join me, is welcome. (goes into the dining room and imitates a second voice) Hello Marge, how's the family? (in regular voice) I don't want to talk about it! Mind your own business!
Homer: Keep it down in there, everybody!
Marge: Homer, is this the way you pictured married life?
Homer: Yeah, pretty much. Except we drove around in a van solving mysteries.
Marge: Homer, I want to throw a dinner party.
Homer: [whining] Oh, I hate having parties. The toilet always gets backed up.
Marge: I don't care if the sink shoots sludge. We're having a party.
Otto: [leaving Stoner's Pot Palace] Man, that is flagrant false advertising!
Marge: It's just not a dinner party without a melon baller. And we'll need a citrus zester, a ravioli crimper... Ooh, an oyster mallet! Made in USA? Oh, no, thank you.
Marge: Oh! A punchbowl like that just screams good taste. Wouldn't it be perfect for the dinner party?
Homer: Oh, we can't afford that. Who do you think I am, Liz Taylor?
Marge: Well, maybe we could use it once and then return it.
Homer: Marge, we're not talking about a toothbrush here.
Marge: Bart, company's coming, go put doilies under the coasters, hurry, hurry! [the dishwasher dings; Marge opens it to reveal four toilet seats inside] Lisa, quick, screw these back on!
Lisa: Mom, calm down, the party's not for another three hours!
Marge: Oh, good! That will give me time to add another coat of glaze to the ham. [she opens the oven to reveal it glowing almost radioactively]
Marge: Are you ready?
[Homer is in his underwear, playing with slot-cars in the living room]
Homer: Just gotta put my shoes on!
[Marge walks in]
Marge: The only thing I asked you to do for this party was put on clothes, and you didn't do it.
[The doorbell rings]
Marge: And now it's too late!
Bart: Mom, Reverend Lovejoy doesn't have a coat. Should I let him in?
Reverend Lovejoy: My coat was stolen at last week's interfaith banquet. So I helped myself to a few of the better umbrellas.
Kirk: Uh, sorry we're late, but Luanne had to put on her face. She doesn't want anyone to know she's got no eyebrows. [Luanne looks at her husband with her bizarrely-slanted brows] What? You don't!
Marge: Did anyone see that new Woodsy Allen movie?
Flanders: You know, I like his films except for that nervous fellow that's always in them.
Luann: If you want to talk nervous, you should've seen Kirk deal with the high-school boys who egged our Bonneville.
Kirk: Ha. Should've asked them to hurl some bacon. Then maybe I could have had a decent breakfast for once.
Homer: You know what you two need? A little comic strip called "Love Is...". It's about two naked eight-year-olds who are married.
Flanders: Oh, that's a noodle-scratcher. [starts drawing a few random dots]
Maude: [gasps] Cornstarch!
Flanders: Oh, righty-o! [both laugh] It's good for keepin' down the urges!
[Kirk and Luanne's turn at Pictionary]
Kirk: Ah, come on Luanne, you know what this is.
Luanne: Kirk, I don't know what it is.
Kirk: [sighs] It could not be more simple, Luanne. You want me to show this to the cat, and have the cat tell you what it is? 'Cause the cat's going to get it.
Luanne: I'm sorry, I'm not as smart as you, Kirk. We didn't all go to Gudger College.
[the timer dings]
Kirk: It's dignity! Gah! Don't you even know dignity when you see it?
Luanne: Kirk, you're spitting.
Kirk: Okay, genius, why don't you draw dignity. [Luanne does so; everyone gasps in recognition, but viewers can't see it]
Dr. Hibbert: Worthy of Webster's.
Reverend Lovejoy: Now, Kirk, it's only a game. Sometimes, we...
Kirk: Aw, cram it, churchy!
Kirk: [to Luanne] Why don't you tell them one of your little bedtime stories, huh? Like the one about how rotten it is to be married to a loser. Or how about the one about how I carry a change purse? Yeah, a purse!
Homer: Shut up and let the woman talk.
Luanne: Okay, Kirk, I'll tell a story. It's about a man whose father-in-law gave him a sweet job as manager of a cracker factory.
Luanne: A man whose complete lack of business sense and managerial impotence...
Homer: Ooh, here we go!
Luanne: ...sent the number one cracker factory in town into a tie for 6th with "TableTime" and "Allied Biscuit."
[Marge hides a box of "Allied Biscuit"]
Kirk: You want to hear a secret, everybody? Luanne loves it, loves it when I fail.
Luanne: Oh yes, Kirk. I love having to borrow money from my sister. I love having to steal clothes from the church donation box.
Reverend Lovejoy: [quietly] Oh, sweet Jesus.
Luanne: I want a divorce!
Kirk: [surprised] I... I... a divorce? Sure. Divorce. Hey, you got it, toots! And here's a picture even you can figure out! [draws a circle in a rectangle] It's a door! Use it!
Kirk: Singles life is great, Homer. I can do whatever I want. Today I drank a beer in the bathroom.
Homer: The one down the hall.
Kirk: Yeah! And another great thing, you get your own bed. I sleep in a racing car, do you?
Homer: I sleep in a big bed with my wife.
Kirk: Oh. Yeah.
Kirk: You're letting me go?
Cracker Factory Executive: Kirk, crackers are a family food. Happy families. Maybe single people eat crackers, we don't know. Frankly, we don't want to know. It's a market we can do without.
Kirk: So, that's it after 20 years? "So long, good luck?"
Cracker Factory Executive: I don't recall saying "good luck."
Milhouse: [makes racing noises while driving his miniature toy car in the house, crashing into things] And the winner of the Milhouse 500 is... Milhouse!
Luanne: [from another room] Milhouse, are you sure you want to drive that inside?
Milhouse: Yes! Mom.
Luanne: Okay! Be careful, sweet, sweet treasure!
[Bart smashes a chair over Homer while he's in the bathtub]
Homer: OW! Ow! Gee... Ow! What the hell is wrong with you!?
Bart: Geez, sor-ry. It's a pretty standard stunt, Homer.
Kirk: Oh, my demo tape!
Homer: (looking at the tape) "Can I Borrow a Feeling?" (laughs) "Can I Borrow a Feeling?" (still laughing) That's your picture on the front! (keeps laughing)
Kirk: Go ahead, Homer, laugh at me.
Homer: But I already did.
Homer: Marge, I'm home! Where are you? Are you okay? I don't smell dinner. [finds a note and reads it aloud] "Dear Homer." Aww. "Sorry you didn't want to join me tonight. I left you hot dogs for dinner. They're thawing in the sink."
[dramatic music plays with close-up on the hot dogs] [screams]
Homer: [to Lisa] I know you're only eight years old, and I don't want to put a lot of pressure on you, but you've got to save my marriage!
Lisa: Oh. Okay. Can I stay up?
Homer: [thinks] All right.
Lisa: You've done a lot of crazy stuff over the years and she stood by you. Why would she leave you now?
Homer: 'Cause there's lots of stuff she doesn't know about!
Lisa: You mean, like your poker shack out in the swamp?
Lisa: She knows.
[in a flashback at a truck stop after Homer and Marge got married]
Homer: See? You don't need to spend a lot of money to have a first-class wedding reception. [opens a box, revealing a whale-shaped cake reading "To a Whale of a Wife"]
Marge: [sighs] It's getting less and less likely you're going to yell "surprise" and have all my friends jump out.
[Homer is fascinated by a Levi's truck passing by]
Homer: "Levi's." Hey, you think that truck is full of jeans?
Lisa [to Homer]: Lisa: You're very lucky to have Mom. [walks away]
Homer: [pause, dejected] That's your advice? Go to bed!
Homer: I'd like to file for... divorce.
Clerk: These things happen. Eight dollars.
Marge: Only three cavities, Bart, your best checkup ever! I'm going to make you my specialty, butterscotch chicken.
Homer: Marge, will you marry me?
Marge: Why? Am I pregnant?
Homer: It's a second wedding, honey. Our first one was so crummy, I had to make it up to you. I really love you.
Marge: Oh, Homey. I know you love me. We don't need to get married again.
Homer: Yes, we do, I got us a divorce this afternoon.
Homer: I didn't want a hokey second wedding like those ones on TV.
Reverend Lovejoy: Dearly beloved...
Homer: Wait! I want one last chance to enjoy single life. [scratches his butt and belches] Okay, ready.
Reverend Lovejoy: [reading Homer's notecards] I will now read these special vows which Homer has prepared for this occasion. Do you, Marge, take Homer, in richness and in poorness, poorness is underlined, in impotence and in potence, in quiet solitude or blasting across the alkali flats in a jet-powered, monkey-navigated... and it goes on like this.
Marge: Lisa, why don't you come sing for us?
Lisa: [marchs and sings] You're a grand old flag...
Kirk: [to Luanne] Oh, great, you got the kid singing. I hope you're happy now.
Nelson: My mom left my dad after she got hooked on cough drops. At the end her breath was so fresh, she wasn't really my mother anymore.
Kirk: How about it Luann? Will you marry me...again?
Luann: Ewwww! No!
Dr. Hibbert: Marge, if this was my last meal, I'd tell the warden, "Bring on the lethal injection!"