Looking at that tired old freak has made me realize I’m no spring chicken myself. I can feel death’s clammy hand on my shoulder... wait, that’s my hand.— Grampa
Lisa: Just a cotton-picking minute here! I've been getting A's since jimboree!
Homer: What do you want, a medal?
Lisa: You gave Bart one!
Marge: When did this happen? When did we become the bottom rung of society?
Homer: I think it was when that cold snap killed off all the hobos.
Financial Planner: You haven't set aside anything for the future.
Wiggum: Well, you know how it is with cops. I'll get shot three days before retirement. In the business we call it "ret-irony".
Financial Planner: But what if you don't get shot?
Wiggum: What a terrible thing to say. Now look, you've made my wife cry!
Mr. Burns: A show about a doll? Why not write a musical about the common cat? Or the king of Siam? Give it up, Smithers.
Mr. Burns: What is this? Some kind of force field around these vegetables.
Homer: That's the sneeze guard. You have to lean under it to get salad or sneeze on stuff.
Homer: I was wondering if I could get a raise.
Mr. Burns: What kind of raise?
Lenny: Ow, my eye! I'm not supposed to get pudding in it!
Mr. Burns: You're so much more fun than Smithers. Why he doesn't even know the meaning of the word 'gay'.
Homer: Why didn't you rescue me?
Mr. Burns: Too busy trying to keep my sides from splitting. It's happened before.
Homer: (as Santa) Ho ho ho! Merry... line?
Homer: What? Lemme see that!
Kent Brockman: Yes, whether you're Christian, or just non-Jewish, everybody loves Santa Claus.