Dr. Hibbert: Marge, I'm afraid your husband has what is known as Jerusalem Syndrome.
Lisa: Ah, yes. Jerusalem Syndrome. A delusion or psychosis of a religious nature while visiting Jerusalem.
Bart: Have you ever noticed that dad always gets the diseases they write about in the in-flight magazine?
Homer: (preaching at the Dome of the Rock) I will unite the Christians, the Muslims and the Jews. From now on, you shall be known as Chrismujews!
(Crowd murmurs disapprovingly.)
Homer: Because in the end, aren't all religions the same? They tell us what to eat, when to pray, that this lump of clay called Man can somehow shape himself to resemble the divine. But we can never attain that perfect grace if we have hatred in our hearts.
Jimbo Jones: Hey! As a youth, if I don't hear a computer word every few seconds, I'm out of here.
Ned Flanders: Homer, our Bible study group is going to the Holy Land. I would like to invite you and your family to come as my guests.
Homer: Let's see: go to a war zone with a busload of religious lame-os, in a country with no pork and a desert with no casinos. Where do I sign up?
Marge: Homer, I can hear your sarcasm from inside the house, and the dishwasher is on. What's going on?
Lisa: Mr. Flanders is inviting us to Israel. I think he's trying to get dad into Heaven.
Bart: Great, more Hell for me.
Jacob: Smite him like the first born of Egypt! Dead baby, dead baby, pass over, dead baby, dead baby...
Bart: (reading prayers from the Wailing Wall) Sad. Sad. Sad. Not gonna happen. Sad. Sad. Maybe if you're Brad Pitt.
Homer: What are you doing, boy?
Bart: Reading prayers and ignoring them, just like God.
Homer: It's so cool here in the Tomb of the Unknown Savior.
Ned Flanders: Unknown? He's the most famous man who ever lived!
Homer: Porky Pig?
Ned Flanders: Porky Pig isn't a person! He's a pig, and he's not even a real pig!
Homer: But he is buried here, right?
Marge: Homer, you're alive!
Homer: More than alive, woman. I am the Chosen One. I shall unite all the faiths of the Holy Land! I am the Messiah!
Marge: But you have all our passports, right?
Homer: Oh, yeah. Gotta keep track of those. The Messiah!... has the passports.
Jacob: What? Israel people are pushy? How about you experience a few genocides and see how laid back you are. We were banished from Spain. Thrown out of there. They allow everyone in Spain. But for us, Jews, no flamenco, get out. I'm pushy? Please. You stay there surrounded by your great enemy Canada. Try Syria for two months, then we'll see who's pushy.
Dr. Hibbert: Mind if I have a word with your wife?
Homer: As you wish. But look upon her not with lust. And do not send her friendly emails, that's how it begins.
Homer: (referring to a camel) Ahh, a sand horse, car of the desert.
Homer: (on the phone) I was wondering, do you deliver falafel to the top of Mt. Zion? Great. I'd like a large falafel with pepperoni, sausage, and extra cheese. Yes I know what a falafel is.
Bart: You don't fight like a girl, or even a Milhouse.
Dorit: I don't know what is Milhouse.
Bart: Why am I running from a girl? Hey call me when you're old enough for a Bat Mitzvah and I'll send you an envelope full of nothing.