Julie Kavner: Marge Simpson

Homer of Seville

Marge Simpson

Dr. Hibbert: I just need to make sure your vertebrae are properly aligned. This should take only a minute, and cost about a thousand dollars.
Homer Simpson: [singing operatically] D'oh!
Marge Simpson: That doesn't sound like Homer's usual annoyed grunt.
Dr. Hibbert: Hmm.
Homer Simpson: [singing operatically as Hibbert pokes him in the stomach] D'oh!
[in a lower pitch as Hibbert does so again]
Homer Simpson: D'oh!
Dr. Hibbert: Fascinating. When Homer's on his back, his stomach lodges perfectly under his diaphragm, giving him a powerful singing voice.
Bart Simpson: Is that a real thing?
Lisa Simpson: It is! Tenor Andrea Bocelli recorded an entire song on his back.
Dr. Hibbert: You know, Homer, your singing could help alleviate patient suffering, and save us a fortune in Demerol.

Marge Simpson: Sir, thank you for saving us. Do you want to come in for some coffee?
Julia: [taking off her helmet and shaking out her hair] That's right, I'm a woman.
Homer Simpson: A lady motorcycle driver? What is this, the Twilight Zone?

Homer Simpson: So, did you see the show tonight? Remember the part where I forgot the words and I just sang "Uh-oh, Spaghetti-O's"? I'm hoping they send me a case.
Julia: [unzipping her one-piece motorcycle suit] Now listen, Homer. You can have me anytime you want me.
Homer Simpson: [a little frightened] Marge!
Julia: But if you say one word to your wife, I'll tell her you attacked me.
Marge Simpson: [in the kitchen] What is it, sweetie?
Homer Simpson: Um... everyone's wearing clothes in here.
Marge Simpson: That's nice.

Marge Simpson: I'm so tense. I can't enjoy Count Almaviva serenading the intended bride of Dr. Bartolo. I just can't.
Lisa Simpson: I don't see anything suspicious. Except someone is loudly unwrapping their candy.
Moe Szyslak: It ain't candy, it's a lamb chop wrapped in foil.

Bart Simpson: Hey, Mom, do all conductors carry poison blow-darts in their pocket?
Marge Simpson: Well, Arthur Fiedler used to, but I'd better take a look.
[recognizing Julia as the conductor]
Marge Simpson: Chief Wiggums! The maestro is the killer!
Chief Wiggum: [putting on a Viking helmet backstage] All right, I'm going in.
[falling into the orchestra pit from the loud noise]
Chief Wiggum: [on top of a kettle drum] Allegro! Allegro!
[the musicians begin playing faster]
Chief Wiggum: I mean andante. Andante!
[sighing as they slow down]
Chief Wiggum: Ah, yeah.

Marge Simpson: Chief, I think we should cancel the performance.
Chief Wiggum: No can do, Marge. My first duty is to the season-ticket holders. But don't worry, I've got the entire opera house on a complete lockdown. I got sharpshooters on the gargoyles, inflatable Homer decoys in the seats, and to take out the biggest threat of all, we're pre-crashing the chandelier.

Homer Simpson: Oh, Homer, you've got to try this roast beef au jus.
Homer Simpson: [taking a bite] Mmm! Au jus! Not quite gravy, not quite blood.
Lisa Simpson: Look at the crowd around that table.
Bart Simpson: It must be a make-your-own-sundae bar!
Homer Simpson: [pushing past people] Oh, I can't wait to taste that hot fudge and caramel and crushed nuts all slathered over a delicious... ELDERLY CORPSE?
Lisa Simpson: [mortified] We crashed a funeral!
Marge Simpson: Oh, my god! Quick, everyone put on their long faces.
[the family puts on expressions of sadness]
Marge Simpson: Longer!

Reverend Lovejoy: This concludes our service. Go now in the peace of the Lord.
Homer Simpson: So long, suckers!
[ushering the family out]
Homer Simpson: Move it, move it, move it! Do you want to be second out of the parking lot? DO YOU?
[Lisa trips]
Homer Simpson: Leave her!
Marge Simpson: We left her last week, and she didn't make it home for dinner!
Homer Simpson: [getting in the car and peeling out] You'll never catch me, Lord!

Marge Simpson: [after Sunday mass] Well, where should we go for brunch? Griddler on the Roof? Thank God It's Fried Eggs? Luftwaffles? Bodacious Frittatas? Buffet the Hunger Slayer?
Homer Simpson: I wanna say one!
Marge Simpson: Be my guest.
Homer Simpson: Denny's.
[dejected groan]
Homer Simpson: Oh...
Bart Simpson: Every place has such a long line.
Homer Simpson: Don't worry. We'll just go home. Your mother can cook.
Lisa Simpson: I just want a simple salad with pine nuts, haricots verts, seasonal heirloom tomatoes...
Marge Simpson: Forget it! One day a week, I should be able to put on nice clothes and have someone bring food to me.
Bart Simpson: There's a place... with no line!
Homer Simpson: Whoo-hoo!
Lisa Simpson: [seeing a catering van] Bart, that's not a restaurant, it's somebody's house.
Homer Simpson: Lisa's right, son. Your mom is way too classy to crash a private...
Marge Simpson: [crawling through a window in the basement] I'm not cooking!

Marge Simpson: I'm sorry you got hurt, but you learned an important lesson. No one comes between me and my Homie.
Julia: [surly] I'll get you for this, Marge, if it's the last thing I do.
[brightly]
Julia: Oh, and I scheduled the cable guy to come on Wednesday between 10:00 and 2:00.
Marge Simpson: Oh, but Wednesday's not good for me.
Julia: I know, Marge. I know.
[laughing evily]