The War Of Art

Homer:Lisa wants a dot-dot-dot guinea pig?

Marge · Homer:And when they get excited, they jump straight up. It's called 'popcorning.' Lisa got to you. I don't know how, but she got to you.

Homer:Emojis. Now she's gone too far.

Lisa:I don't want to be one of those girls who waits till she's 16 to decide if she's ready, and then it's too late.

Marge:I, Lisa Simpson, hereby promise to take full responsibility for this dog, cat, other. Circle 'other.'

Marge:If pet becomes Internet superstar, all rights revert to father.

Homer:The kid-parent contract. Unenforceable, yet you feel like you didn't completely cave.

Pet shop worker:You know, most of these guys are rejects from the big guinea-pig mills in the Midwest.

Pet shop worker:Oh, I can't tell you how many mill pigs we get in here who have bumblefoot or the slobbers.

Pet shop worker:You don't have children, do you?

Homer:She's gone, honey. She's gone.

Lisa:Maybe I should get that sick one. If I don't, no one else will.

Lisa:I just wish the gray one had the brown one's personality.

Pet shop worker · Lisa:They tend to do better in pairs. I could get two?

Bart:Farting tweakers rule!

Marge:Are you sure you didn't create a perfect habitat for you?

Lisa:I wish I could live in there. Well, there's plenty of room because Pokey's gone.

Homer:This looks like a job for... fireplace tongs.

Homer:No, that's a much bigger animal.

Homer:Kettle corn. The heroin of the farmers' market.

Marge:It's just, it felt comforting to know that while we watched TV, there was art going on behind us.

Luann:Yeah, Milhouse played the violin for years until it turned out the vibrations were screwing up his bones.

Marge:I've never seen a painting with a lighthouse before.

Kirk:I didn't have a mirror, so I shaved in the reflection of the chrome frame.

Homer:You know it's rocking 'cause music notes are coming out of it.

Homer:Well... to me, it looks like... garbage salad. But that's the great thing about art. Everyone can have their own opinion about why it sucks.

Marge:I hate to think of the things this mirror has reflected.

Homer:It's not like it was painted by Leonardo Da Vinci Code.

Homer:One: nudity, two: holograms, three: something terrible happening to Jesus.

Marge:Nobody touch it! Bart, stop looking at it!

Marge:No, you'll wear it out!

Homer:Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa... whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Homer:We can hang it on our wall, cut eyeholes in it to spy on people.

Homer:If you think about it, aren't they really just the parents of a kid who happens to hang out with our kid?

Homer:Then they'll just be mad about the 65% that we're keeping.

Homer:like piranhas devouring a wounded yeti.

Marge:No wonder Lisa's in love with you.

Milhouse:Bart agrees to promote and encourage use of my new cool nickname, 'C.J.'

Bart:You got it, Ceej.

Milhouse:I'm sorry, Mr. S. I cracked! We had a deal. And now we've got nothing!

Kirk:I let Homer use our master bathroom!

Marge:We were gonna treat you to dinner at an upscale chain restaurant and never explain why, but now forget it!

Luann:You're so good at... collecting.

Marge:Sarcastic brr!

Homer:I could write a check with today's date on it. That's the cushion.

Kent Brockman:So if you see the Simpsons walking down your street, lock your doors and hide... your friendship.

Homer:Great! Now we're raccoons, the masked bandits of the animal world!

Marge:We don't even get this many Christmas cards.

Homer:Just close your eyes and think of the cushion.

Dawn:While you two were separated, Kirk and used to be friends... with banana-fits.

Luann · Auctioneer:Don't bother coming home, Kirk! Going once? Going twice? Sold! To the lonely auctioneer!

Auctioneer:Sold! To the lonely auctioneer!

Kirk:Oh, Luann, I'll never gaze from my thick eyeglasses into your thick eyeglasses ever again.

Homer:Those parasailing guys take whatever they want.

Kirk:That woman will say anything to keep herself in electric cigarettes.

Marge:He's been playing Dancing Revolution for hours, but the TV is off.

Lisa · Homer:That's a terrible thing for a father to do. That's why she'll believe it.

Local:Three discos up, four gelatos on the left. You can't miss it. It's right between the disco and the gelato place.

Server · Homer:It's a liqueur made of fermented capers, the official drink of the island. Mmm! Sounds delicious. It's not.

Klaus:Wrong! It's a me! A what? I painted it! Me, Klaus Ziegler!

Klaus:'Forger' is such a cruel word. I'm an art forger.

Klaus:The only real question to ask about art, whether it's in the Louvre or on a freshman's wall at Cal State Fullerton is, 'Did it move you?'

Homer:I'll pay you in Strupo.

Narrator:Though this fermented caper solution was originally used to dissolve seagull corpses, local alcoholics soon found Strupo to be a palatable drink of last resort.

Narrator:The noxious liqueur causes powerful olfactory hallucinations, gender confusion, and wandering mouth.