Fender: Easy, baby. You don't wanna get hooked on this stuff.
Bender: Eh, no need to worry. I don't have an addictive personality.

Good news, everyone! Today you'll be delivering a crate of subpoenas to Sicily 8, the Mob Planet!

Farnsworth

Fry: Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait, Bender. So long as we're here why don't we take in some exotic dancing?
Leela: Hey, great idea!
Bender: But... those girls don't wear cases. You can see their bare circuits.

Leela: Do you know how to play the fiddle?
Fry: No. Do you?
Leela: No, but I used to play the drums. They're sorta similar.

Bender: Um, I'm only hallucinating this, right?
(The Robot Devil cracks his whip; Bender yelps.)
Robot Devil: No, Bender! Robot Hell is quite real! Here's our brochure. (hands Bender a brochure entitled "Hell Is Other Robots")
Bender: But I don't belong here! I don't like things that are scary and painful!
Robot Devil: Sorry, Bender. You agreed to this when you joined our religion. If you sin, you go to Robot Hell... (evilly) for all eternity!
Bender: Aw, hell... I mean heck!
Robot Devil: It's alright, you can say that here.

Bender: Friends! Friends! Surely you're not going to eat before we say Robot Grace? In the name of all that is good and logical we give thanks for the chemical energy we are about to absorb. To quote the prophet Jerematic: 1000101010101... (Time Lapse)... 010110012. Amen.

Bender: Don't worry, guys. I'll never be too good or too evil again. From now on, I'll just be me.
Leela: Uh... Do you think you could be a little less evil than that?
Bender: I don't know... Do you think you could survive a seven-hundred foot fall?
Fry: (chuckles) Good ol' Bender.

Fry: Unbelievable. It's an actual, factual Robot Hell.
Leela: Who would've thought hell would really exist? And that it would be in New Jersey!

Fry: We've got to get the old Bender back.
Leela: And I think I know a way to do it. We have to reacquaint him with a little thing called "sleaze".

Fender: Hey, fellas, hey. I want you to meet my friends, Bender, Fry and Leela.
Ad-Rock: Y'know, we're really not that interested in meeting them.

Robot Hell Song:
Robot Devil: Cigars are evil,
You won't miss 'em,
We'll find ways to simulate that smell,
What a sorry fella,
Rolled up and smoked like a donnetela,
Here on Level One of Robot Hell.
Robot Devil: Gambling's wrong and so is cheating,
So is forging phoney IOU's,
Let's let Lady Luck decide,
What type of torture's justified,
I'm pit boss here on Level Two.
Robot Devil: Ooo, deep-fried robot!
Bender: Just tell me why...
Robot Devil: Check out this 55-page warrant.
Bender: There must be robots worse than I...
Robot Devil: We've checked it out; there really aren't.
Bender: Then please let me explain,
My crimes were merely boy-ish pranks...
Robot Devil: You stole from boy scouts, nuns, and banks!
Bender: Ah, don't blame me;
Blame my upbringing!
Robot Devil: Please stop sinning while I'm singing!
Robot Devil: Selling bootleg tapes is wrong,
Musicians need that income to survive.
Beastie Boys: Hey, Bender, gonna make some noise,
With your hard drive scratched by the Beastie Boys!
That's whatcha, whatcha, whatcha get on Level Five!
Fry: I don't feel well...
Leela: It's up to us to rescue him.
Fry: Maybe he likes it here in Hell...
Leela: It's us who tempted him to sin.
Fry: Maybe he's back at the motel...
Leela: Come on, Fry, don't be scared,
I'm sure at least one of us will be spared,
So just sit back, enjoy the ride.
Fry: My ass has blisters from the slide!
Robot Devil: Fencing diamonds,
Fixing cockfights,
Publishing indecent magazines,
You'll pay for every crime,
Knee-deep in electric slime,
You'll suffer till the end of time,
Enduring tortures, most of which rhyme,
Trapped forever here in Robot Hell!

Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, here to lay down some old, old, incredibly old school beats: The Beastie Boys!

Futurama Season 1 Quotes

Anderson: So. What do I owe you?
Fry: $10.77. Same as my PIN number.

Farnsworth: (on the phone) Oh, how awful. Did he at least die painlessly? To shreds, you say. Well, how is his wife holding up? To shreds, you say. Very well then. (hangs up) Sad, sad, terrible, gruesome news about my colleague, Dr. Mobutu.
Leela: Was his apartment rent-controlled?