Chalkboard: It does not suck to be you

Couch: Marge and Homer are depicted as children while Bart and Lisa are depicted as adults (and Maggie is a baby doll in Homer’s arms). Homer reaches for the remote control, but Lisa slaps it away from him.

Gwen: Little more hi-test, darling?
Homer: Sure thing … (reads her nametag) Gwen.
Gwen: I'll be right back with your pie, hon.
Homer: Ah, there's a nice friendly gal.
Bart: Yeah.
Homer: Wouldn't it be great to live right here at the truck stop, watching all the people come and go? You could have a different best friend every day.
Bart: I suppose.
Homer: Great! I'll write your mother and tell her the marriage is off. Then, when the paperwork is done, I'll make Gwen my wife.
Gwen: Will that be all, sweetie?
Homer: For now.

Homer: I thought this was supposed to be a steak house, not a little girly, underpantsy, pink doily, tea party place!
Waiter: Well, there is one steak that's available only by special request. We call it, uh, Sir Loin-A-Lot. It's, uh, the size of a boogie board.
Homer: Ooh, I'll have that one. And to drink … meatballs.
Waiter: Very good, sir.

Homer: Well son, I guess it's time to go home.
Bart: Any thoughts on how we're going to get there?
Homer: No, but I'm sure the good Lord will provide.
(nearby an engineer argues with a man in a military uniform)
Engineer: Are you crazy? I'm not driving a trainload of napalm to Springfield. (throws his cap on the ground and walks off)
Homer: Thank you.

Trucker: All right, pal, here's the deal. You stumbled on a secret that only truck drivers are supposed to know… (Homer giggles) … Hey, pay attention and stop looking at that squirrel.
Trucker 2: We get forty bucks an hour to drive these rigs. You think anybody'd hire us if they knew we weren't driving the trucks?
Homer: Wow, you guys are even lazier than me. Well, don't worry, I'll keep your secret.