Marge: I'm sorry, Maggie, but growing up means giving up the things you love.
Grampa: It's true. I had to give up everything but raisins, and the doctor says even those are killing me. Sweet, plump coffin nails they are.

Selma: Now, we are on our honeymoon
Grampa: I thought we were at the circus, Lisa.
Selma: Whoa boy.

Selma: Wanna split a basket of garlic bread?
Grampa: Slow down you hussie!

(To Selma in their honeymoon suite) Now to do something I've been looking forward to my whole wedding day. (Abe takes off his shoes.) Oh, I'm glad I waited.

In a world of thirty-one flavors, we're the cup of water they rinse the scoops in. Grampa out.

Homer: We left plenty of food so you won't starve!
Grampa: Thank you!
Homer: I was talking to the cat!

Grampa: I can finally win a gold medal. I came close at the 1936 Olympics. I threw a javelin that barely missed Hitler. But I did hit an assassin who was trying to kill Hitler.
Hitler (in 1936): What is this, Kill Hitler Day?
Grampa: The next time I saw Hitler, we had dinner and laughed about it.

Grampa: (With his gold medal.) I've never been happier!
("The Star-Spangled Banner" plays)
Grampa: Turn that hippie crap off!

Homer: My mother's dead.
Grampa: I'm still with you, son.
Homer: Oh, it just gets worse and worse!

Homer: Dad, are you sure you're okay to drive at night?
Grampa: It's night?
Homer: That's it, pull over!

Homer: Dad, I can't remember what I did last night. Do have any idea?
Grampa: You come to me for help rememberin'? That's like asking your horse to do your taxes--Which I did in 1998. (Shows photo of horse using an adding machine.)

(Grampa suggests that Homer should go see Professor Frink to help him remember what happened the night before.)
Homer: Really? Oh, that's great, Dad. How can I ever repay you?
Grampa: Punch that orderly who takes sips out of my juice.
Homer: Done.
(Cut to Homer punching an orderly who is about to make a bed.)
Grampa: No, wait. That's the guy that saved my life.

The Simpsons Quotes

Larry: What you got riding on this?
Homer: My daughter.
Larry: What a gambler!

Maggie? Oh, you must be sick. Let's see, what's old Dr. Washburn prescibe? Do you have dropsy? The grippe? Scofula? The vapors? Jungle rot? Dandy fever? Poor man's gout? Housemaid's knee? Climatic poopow? The staggers? Dum-dum fever?

</i> Abe