Grampa: Out of my way, I got a date with an angel.
Jasper: You don't know how right you are, Abe.
Jasper: I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Bea passed away last night.
Grampa: Oh, no.
Jasper: It was her ticker. The doctor said her left ventricle burst.
Grampa: No, Jasper. They may say she died from a burst ventricle, but I know she died of a broken heart.
Bea: So, um, (Clears throat) tell me about yourself.
Grampa: Uh, widower, one son, one working kidney. And you?
Bea: Widowed, bad hip and liver disorder.
(Homer at a Krusty Burger drive thru.)
Homer: A double cheeseburger, onion rings, large strawberry shake, and, for God's sakes, hurry!
Grampa: Oh, Lisa, what makes you think you deserve all that money?
Lisa: I don't deserve it, Grampa. No one here does. The people who deserve it are on the streets, and they're in the slums. They're little children who need more library books and families who can't make ends meet. Of course, if you really wanted to, you could buy me a pony.
Grampa: You're right!
Lisa: I'll name her Princess, and I'll ride her every day!
(Grampa comes home and forgives Homer.)
Grampa: Sonny boy!
(The two hug.)
Grampa: Is there room at your table for a foolish old man?
Homer: Well, sure! Eh, we'll have to move a chair in from the den. But it's no problem. Bart!
(Grampa rides a roller coaster alone.)
Grampa: I miss Bea.
(Bea's ghost appears in the seat next to Grampa.)
Bea: I miss you, too.
Grampa: (Screams in fright)
Bea: Oh, Abraham, calm down. I'm not here to scare you. They've got me haunting a family in Texas.
(Grampa mourns Bea in his room.)
Lionel Hutz: It was a beautiful service, wasn't it, Mr. Simpson?
Grampa: (Yells) Who the hell are you?
Lionel Hutz: Lionel Hutz, attorney-at-law! I'm the executor of Beatrice Simmons’ estate. Mr. Simpson, Bea was a wealthy woman and, surprise, surprise, she left everything to you.
Lionel Hutz: There is one catch. You must spend one night in… a haunted house!
Lionel Hutz: (Chuckles) Just kidding, just kidding.
(At Bea's funeral.)
Homer: I can't tell you how sorry I am, Dad.
Grampa: (Sarcastically) Is someone talking to me? I didn't hear anything.
Homer: Oh no! Dad's lost his hearing!
Grampa: Eh, what are you, uh, doing tonight?
Bea: Sitting alone in my room.
Grampa: (Disappointed) Oh, well, if you've got plans already--
Bart: You know, Grampa kind of smells like that trunk in the garage where the bottom's all wet.
Lisa: Nuh-uh. He smells more like a photo lab.
Homer: Stop it, both of you! Grampa smells like a regular old man, which is more like a hallway in a hospital.
Marge: Homer, that's terrible! We should be teaching the children to treasure the elderly. You know, we'll be old someday.
Homer: (Gasps) My God, you're right, Marge! You kids won't put me in a home like I did to my dad, would you?
Homer: (Screams) Marge, what do we do?
(At the casino)
Grampa: Put it all on 41. (To Homer) I've got a feeling about that number.
Roulette Operator: The wheel only goes to 36, sir.
Grampa: Okay, put it all on 36! (To Homer) I've got a feeling about that number.