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
Bart: Keep your voices down, boys. We didn't come this far to get found out.
Homer: Found 'em! You kids are in big trouble, running away from home like this!
Bart: But they stole our lemon tree!
Homer: I don't care what excuse you've got. Nothing's going to stop me in the middle of this speech. You're gonna -- lemon tree?!
Bart: This whole raid was as useless as that yellow, lemon shaped rock over there. Wait a minute, there's a lemon behind that rock!