Difference between revisions of "Mother Simpson/Quotes"

Revision as of 09:34, December 24, 2018

Lenny: I can't believe I'm spending half my Saturday picking up garbage. I mean, half these bottles aren't even mine!

Mr. Burns: Ahem. Let's have less conversation and more sanitation.

Carl: Hey, where's Homer? How'd he get out of this?

Homer: [from the top of a cliff] Hey, everybody! Up here!

Smithers: Simpson, stop frolicking and get to work!

Homer: Right away, Mr. Smithers. I'll just walk across these slippery rocks—aah! [falls]

Carl: Oh no! He's going over the falls!

Lenny: Oh good. He snagged that tree branch.

Carl: Oh no! The branch broke off!

Lenny: Oh good. He can grab onto them pointy rocks.

Carl: Oh no! Them rocks broke his arms and legs.

Lenny: Oh good. Those helpful beavers are swimming out to save him.

Carl: Oh no! They're biting him, and stealing his pants.

Smithers: Good Lord... he'll be sucked into the turbine! [Homer swirls around then gets sucked in; the workers gasp, then bow their heads]

Mr. Burns: [rolling down the window] Smithers, who was that corpse?

Smithers: Homer Simpson, Sir. [sniffs] One of the finest, bravest men ever to grace sector 7G. [sobs] [in a normal voice] I'll cross him off the list.

Reverend Lovejoy: Marge, we can't tell you how sorry we are.

Ned Flanders: You have our deepest condol-diddely-olences. [stammering] I'm sorry, I'm just nervous: I didn't mean any disrespect.

Marge: What are you talking about?

Ned: You know... Homer's passing. [Marge looks blankly] Away. [Marge looks blankly again] Into death.

Marge: What?! [looks at paper] That's ridiculous! Homer's not dead. He's right out back in the hammock. [they all go out back; the hammock is now empty]

Ned: Oh, Marge, of course Homer's alive: he's alive in all our hearts.

Maude: Yes, Marge. I can see him.

Lisa: [skips by happily] Hi everybody!

Reverend Lovejoy: Marge, I'm going to give you the card of our juvenile counselor.

[When Patty and Selma come by the Simpsons' home with a tombstone for Homer]

Marge: A tombstone?!

Patty: It came with the burial plot, but that's not important: the important thing is, Homer's dead.

Selma: We've been saving for this since your wedding day.

Marge: Get out of here, you ghouls! [shuts the door] Ay-yi-yi-yi-yi.

[When the power goes out and Marge goes to the window and sees a workman cutting the lines]

Marge: Uh, excuse me! Sir? I think there's been a mistake.

Workman: Oh, no, no mistake. Your electricity's in the name of Homer J. Simpson, deceased. The juice stays off until you get a job or a generator. Oh, and, uh, my deepest sympathies.

Marge: Homer?

Homer: That's my name.

Marge: When I asked you if that dummy was to fake your own death, you told me no. You go downtown first thing in the morning and straighten this out.

[Homer goes to the Springfield Hall of Records]

Homer: Listen here: my name is Homer J. Simpson. You guys think I'm dead, but I'm not. Now I want you to straighten this out without a lot of your bureaucratic red tape and mumbo-jumbo!

Bureaucrat: [typing on the computer] OK, Mr. Simpson, I'll just make the change here... and you're all set.

Homer: I don't like your attitude, you water-cooler dictator. What do you have in that secret government file anyway? I have a right to read it.

Bureaucrat: [spins the computer around] You sure do.

Homer: [reads] "Wife: Marjorie. Children: Bartholomew, Lisa"—aha! See? This thing is all screwed up! Who the heck is Margaret Simpson?

Bureaucrat: Uh, your youngest daughter.

Homer: [mockingly] "Uh, your youngest daughter". Well how about this? This thing says my mother's still alive; she died when I was a kid! [goes to the window] See that stone angel up there? That's my mother's grave. My dad points it out every time we drive by.

Bureaucrat: Mr. Simpson, uh... maybe you should actually go up there.

[Homer goes to see his mother's "grave"]

Homer: Mom, I'm sorry I never come to see you. I'm just not a cemetery person. "Here lies" -- Walt Whitman?! Damn you, Walt Whitman! I hate you, Walt freakin' Whitman! Leaves of grass, my ass!

Homer: I thought you were dead!

Mona Simpson: I thought you were dead!

Mona Simpson: Homer, you grew up so handsome.

Homer: Some people say I look like Dan Aykroyd. I can't believe you're here! Dad always told me you died while I was at the movies.

Mona Simpson: Oh, my poor baby. You must have been so upset. But I suppose Abe has his reasons.

Homer: Well, where have you been all this time?

Mona Simpson: It's... a very complicated story. Let's just enjoy this moment.

Homer: Ma, there's something you should know about me: I almost always spoil the moment. [a pelican lands on his head and spits a fish into his pants] I'm sorry.

Mona Simpson: That's OK, darling: it wasn't your fault.

Homer: Hey, everybody! I've got a big surprise for you! Presenting... my mother!

[Everyone drops their food and talks incredulously.]

Mona Simpson: [awkwardly] Hello.

Lisa: This is so weird. It's like something out of Dickens or "Melrose Place."

Bart: Where have you been, Granny? Did they freeze you or something?

Mona Simpson: Oh, my, such clever grandchildren. So full of questions and bright, shiny eyes.

Marge: I don't know what to say: I finally have a mother-in-law. [laughs nervously] No more living vicariously through my girlfriends. [laughs more, then coughs]

Bart: Hey, since you were a no-show at all the big moments of my life, you owe me years of back presents, Christmases, report cards (grabs a calculator) Hmm, 75 bucks a pop plus interest and penalties… you owe me $22,000.

Homer: I'll Kwanzaa you! [strangles Bart]

Mona Simpson: Homer, don't be so hard on little… [whispers] what is his name?

Homer: This is my room, and this is my dresser. It's where I keep my shirts when I'm not wearing them.

Mona Simpson: Oh, yes, right in the drawers. [they both laugh]

Homer: [sighing] You remembered. Oh, I've missed moments like this... Mom.

Mona Simpson: I saw all your awards, Lisa. They're mighty impressive.

Lisa: Aw, I just keep them out to bug Bart, heh.

Mother Simpson: Don't be bashful. When I was your age, kids made fun of me because I read at the 9th grade level.

Lisa: Me too!

Homer: [walks on his hands] Hey, Mom! Look at me! Look at what I can do!

Mother Simpson: I see you, Homer. That's very nice. [to Lisa] Although I hardly consider "A Separate Peace" the ninth-grade level.

Lisa: Shyeah, more like preschool.

Mona Simpson: I hate John Knowles.

Lisa: Me too. [they both laugh, then sigh]

Homer: Mom! You're not looking!

Mona Simpson: You know, Lisa, I feel like I have an instant rapport with you.

Lisa: You didn't dumb it down. You said "rapport."

[A police cruiser rolls down the street.]

Mona Simpson: Gotta run! Grandma stuff! [runs in the house; Lisa looks suspicious]

[Bart and Lisa are downstairs in the laundry room.]

Lisa: [turns on dryer] There, now no one should be able to hear us.

Bart: What?

Lisa: [turns off dryer] All right, we don't need the dryer.

Bart: What?

Lisa: Just shut up and listen! There's something fishy about Grandma: whenever we ask her where she's been all this time, she changes the subject. And just now, when a police car drove by, she ran into the house.

Bart: Yeah, I don't trust her either. When I was going through her purse, look what I found! [hands Lisa some driver's licenses]

Lisa: [reads] Mona Simpson...Mona Stevens...Martha Stewart...Penelope Olsen...Muddy Mae Suggins? These are the calling cards of a con artist.

Homer: Woo hoo! I'm so glad to have my mom back. I never realized how much I missed her!

Marge: [pause] She's nice.

Homer: But...?

Marge: I just don't think you should get too excited about the woman who abandoned you for 25 years. You could get hurt again.

Homer: First, it wasn't 25 years, it was 27 years. And second, she had a very good reason.

Marge: Which was...?

Homer: [pause] I dunno. I guess I was just a horrible son and no mother would want me.

Marge: Oh, Homey, come on. You're a sweet, kind, loving man. I'm sure you were a wonderful son!

Homer: [unhappily] Then why did she leave me?

Marge: Let's find out.

Marge: Mother Simpson, we'd like to ask you a few questions about your past.

Mona: Can't reminisce, sleeping. [snores]

Bart: Spill it, Muddy Mae, or we're calling the cops!

Mona: Please don't.

Lisa: All right, then we'll call your husband, Grampa!

Mona: No! I'll talk. I'll tell you everything I've wanted to tell you.

[In a flashback from the 60's. A young Homer is playing "Operation".]

Young Homer: "Take out wrenched ankle." [gets electrocuted] Mom! Mom! Mooom!

Mona: [runs in] Oh, my little Homey bear. [kisses him] Time for bed.

Young Homer: [getting in bed] Sing me my bedtime song, Mom.

Mona: [singing] Ooey, gooey, rich and chewy inside, Golden flaky, tender caky outside. Wrap the inside in the outside, is it good?

Young Homer: Darn tootin'.

Mona & Young Homer: [singing] Doing the big Fig Newton! Here's the tricky part.

[Young Homer falls asleep.]

Mona: Abe, isn't Homer cute?

Grampa: Probably. I'm trying to watch the Super Bowl. If people don't support this thing, it might not make it.

Howard Cosell: [on TV] Joe Willy Namath, swaggering off the field, his sideburns an apogee of sculpted sartorium. The foppish follicles pioneered by Ambrose Burnside, Appomattox 1865.

Mona: [looking at Joe Namath] His wild, untamed facial hair revealed a new world of rebellion and change. A world where doors were open for women like me. But Abe was stuck in his button-down plastic-fantastic Madison Avenue scene.

Grampa: Look at them sideburns! He looks like a girl. Now, Johnny Unitas. There's a haircut you could set your watch to.

Hippies: [chanting] Anthrax, gangrene, swimmer's ear! Get your germ lab out of here!

Hippies: Hey, hey, Mr. Burns! Enough already with the germs!

Mr. Burns: [from a window above] Ho, their flower power is no match for my glower power! [glowers and the crowd disperses]

Chief Wiggum: [below, guarding the doors] Well that's some nice glowering, Mr. B.

Hippie: When this baby goes off, Burns' lab is going to be history, man—germ history [laughs] Oh man, I got the munchies.

Chief Wiggum: [gasping, panting] No... no! Wait a minute -- [tries breathing] Bronchial tubes clearing... asthma disappearing! Acne remains, but... asthma disappearing.

Mr. Burns: [to Mona] You just made a very big mistake. You'll spend the rest of your life in pri...

[Chief Wiggum slams the door open and crushes Mr. Burns behind it.]

Chief Wiggum: My asthma's gone! Listen to me breathe. [snorts] Waaah! [snorts] Waaah!

Kent Brockman [on TV] Only one member of the Springfield Seven was identified. She's been described as a woman in her early 30's, yellow complexion, and may be extremely helpful. For Channel Six News, I'm Kenny Brockelstein.

[Mona walks into Homer's room while he's asleep.]

Mona: Homer...[kisses him, weeps] I'm sorry. [walks out]

Homer: [in the present] I thought I dreamed that kiss.

Marge: I'm so sorry I misjudged you, Mom. You had to leave to protect your family.

Homer: There's one thing I don't understand, Mom... in all those years, why didn't you try to contact me?

Mona: But I did. I sent you a care package every week!

Homer: Oh come on Ma, we use that same line on the kids when they're at camp.

[Homer goes to the post office.]

Homer: Any undelivered mail for Homer J. Simpson?

Postal Worker: No. Oh wait, this. [lifts huge sack of parcels] That's what happens when you don't tip your letter carrier at Christmas.

Mr. Burns: I'd like to send this to the Prussian consulate in Siam by aeromail. Am I too late for the 4:30 auto-gyro?

Squeaky-voiced teen: Uh, I better look in the manual.

Mr. Burns: [groans] Oh, the ignorance.

Joe Friday: Are you sure this is the woman you saw in the post office?

Mr. Burns: Absolutely! Who could forget such a monstrous visage? She has the sloping brow and cranial bumpage of the career criminal.

Smithers: Uh, Sir? Phrenology was dismissed as quackery 160 years ago.

Mr. Burns: Of course you'd say that... you have the brainpan of a stagecoach tilter!

Bill Gannon: At any rate, the FBI will track down this mystery woman and put her behind bars.

Mona: [singing] How many roads must a man walk down before you can call him a man?

Homer: Seven!

Lisa: No, Dad, it's a rhetorical question.

Homer: Rhetorical, eh?... Eight!

Lisa: Dad, do you even know what rhetorical means?

Homer: Do I know what rhetorical means?!

[The doorbell rings.]

Bart: [gasps] Quick, Grandma, hide!

[Marge closes the curtains; someone pounds on the door, then manages to open it.]

Grampa: No door is going to keep me from my meddling! Stand up straight, Bart.

Mona: Abe?

Grampa: What the… [stammers] Now here's a piece of bad news.

Mona: Oh, Abe, you've aged terribly!

Grampa: What do you expect? You left me to raise the boy on my own!

Mona: I had to leave! But you didn't have to tell Homer I was dead!

Grampa: It was either that, or tell him his mother was a wanted criminal! You were a rotten wife, and I'll never, ever forgive you! [pause] Can we have sex? Please?

Mona: [disgusted] Oh, Abe.

Grampa: Well, I tried! What's for supper?

Cabbie: Yeah, I might have seen her.

Bill Gannon: [typing] Well, according to our computer aging program, she should look about... [turns the screen around which has a giant "25" on it] 25 years older.

Cabbie: Yeah, I seen her! That is to say, I saw her.

Bart: [wearing a tie-dye shirt] Look at me, Grandma: I'm a hippie! Peace man, groovy! Bomb Vietnam! Four more years! Up with people! [runs off]

Lisa: You know, Grandma, I used to think that I was adopted. I couldn't understand how I fit into this family. Now that I met you, I suddenly make a lot of sense. [hugs her]

Mona: I'm so glad to see the spirit of the 60's is still alive in you kids. [camera shows Maggie dancing to the "Laugh-In" theme with a "Ban the bottle" slogan painted on her stomach]

Gravedigger: Yep, I saw her. That is to say, I seen her. She seemed like a nice lady.

Mr. Burns: Well, that nice lady set the cause of biological warfare back 30 years!

Joe Friday: [to Selma] Ma'am, we're going to need your assistance in locating this individual.

Selma: [giggling] Oh, I'm fresh. Don't you want to play "Good Cop, Bad Cop"?

Joe Friday: Ma'am, we're all good cops.

Selma: I had no intention of playing the good cops.

Chief Wiggum: [reading Homer's tombstone upside-down] Put out an APB on a Uosdwis R. Jewoh. Uh, better start with Greektown.

Joe Friday: That's "Homer J. Simpson", Chief. You're reading it upside down.

Chief Wiggum: Uh, cancel that APB. But, uh, bring back some of them, gyros.

Joe Friday: Uh, Chief… You're talking into your wallet.

Lisa: Grandma, have you ever thought about moving back to Springfield?

Homer: You could live with Grampa again. [everyone laughs]

Grampa: Oh, I'm a living joke.

Mona: You know, Lisa, it might be nice to rest for a while.

[The phone rings, Homer answers it, then leans into the doorway.]

Homer: Mom? There's nothing to be alarmed about, but... could you take one last look at the family and join me in the kitchen?

Mr. Burns: [in the tank] I've been waiting 25 years for this moment. [puts on a tape of "Ride of the Valkyries." It switches into ABBA's "Waterloo." He glares at Smithers]

Smithers: I'm sorry, Sir, I must have taped over that.

Joe Friday: FBI. The jig is up.

Grampa: Alright! I admit it, I am the Lindbergh baby! Waah! Waah! Goo-goo! I miss my fly-fly, Da-Da!

Joe Friday: Are you trying to stall us, or are you just senile?

Grampa: A little from Column A, a little from Column B.

Mona: We made it, Homer!

Homer: It's all thanks to our anonymous tipster. [on phone] But who are you? And why did you tip us off?

Chief Wiggum: [on the phone] Well, its cause of your old lady that I got rid of my asthma that was keeping me out of the academy.

Homer: Thanks.

Chief Wiggum: Sure. Just think of me as an anonymous friend who rose through the ranks of the Springfield police to become Chief Clancy Wig--

Homer: [hangs up the phone] Yak, yak, yak, yak, yak!

Mona: Well, there's my ride. The underground awaits.

Homer: [sniffles] At least this time, I'm awake for your goodbye.

Mona: [sniffles] Oh. Remember, whatever happens, you have a mother, and she's truly proud of you. [they hug]

Hippie: Oh! Hurry up, man. This electric van only has 20 minutes of juice left! [Mother Simpson walks into the van]

Homer: Don't forget me!

Mona: Don't worry, Homer: you'll always be a part of me. [hits her head on doorframe] D'oh!