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.

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


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!

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.

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: 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".

Fry: Bender's stupid religion is driving me nuts.
Leela: Amen.
Farnsworth: If only he had joined a mainstream religion like Oprah-ism or Voodoo.

Leela: (knocks on the restroom door) Bender, why are you spending so much time in the bathroom? Are you jacking on in there?
Bender: No! Don't come in!

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.

Robot Devil: We know all your sins, Bender! And for each one we've prepared an agonising and ironic punishment! (turns head) Gentlemen...
(A robot band plays up-tempo music.)
Bender: Ah, crap. Singing... Mind if I smoke?

Bender: Stop tempting me! For once in my life, I have found inner peace!
Fry: (scoffs) That's for losers. C'mon, sin your heart out!

Futurama Season 1 Quotes

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?

Leela: OK, you're on the surface. Now I'll give you 10 minutes. Then you'll get bored, turn around and apologise for being such a jerk. Agreed?
Fry: Agreed.