Marcia: Forget it, Doug. Even with a swollen nose, I can still smell a rat.

Charlie: Hey, I heard what you said, Doug, and I'm not gonna let you talk to Marcia like that.
Doug: Yeah?
Charlie: Yeah.
Doug: Well, what are you gonna do about it, geek?
Charlie: I'm gonna... lose... consciousness...

Charlie: Marcia, I think I just felt your tongue in my mouth.
Marcia: Brady It's called a French kiss, Charlie.
Charlie: Um, Marcia, I gotta go. Uh... Something suddenly came up.

Mike: As a wise man once said, "Wherever you go, there you are."

*Sam gives Alice a bowling ball*
Sam: When I saw it, I thought it was right up your alley.
Alice: I'm bowled over.

Mike: I couldn't have put it better myself, Jan. But I'll try anyway. Mike: Alone, we can only move buckets. But if we work together, we can drain rivers.

Greg: Hey there, groovy chicks. You're all hep in far out ways.

Bobby: Excuse me, officers, but I hate to ask a law enforcement official to bend the rules, especially for Penal Code 117, Section 33b, but our house is at stake.

Mike: Our house is more important than money. This neighborhood is more important than money. Tell me. How many times have we borrowed each other's power tools or patched up each other's kids? We know so much about each other. I know that every January, Mr. Yeager is going to have that big Super Bowl party at his house. We know that every spring, Mrs. Simmons is going to have the prettiest daffodils on the block. We know that at 10:15 every Saturday morning, Mrs. Topping likes to walk through her living room naked. Call me old-fashioned, but these things are important, and they're not for sale. This is our neighborhood, and we're staying.

Marcia: Doug! I think I just felt your tongue in my mouth.
Doug: It's called a french kiss.
Marcia: But I thought you were from Nebraska!

Mike: Put on your Sunday best kids; we're going to Sears!

Eric: *about Marcia* She's harder to get into than a Pearl Jam concert.

Cindy: *lisping* My mommy asked me to ask you if you had any of our mail by mistake.
Mr. Dittmeyer: Look, I don't understand you, what do you want?
Cindy: My mommy asked me to ask you if you had any of our mail by mistake.
Mr. Dittmeyer: What?
Cindy: My mommy asked me to ask you if you had any of our mail by mistake.
Mr. Dittmeyer: Nope, not a clue.

Marcia: Oh those are pretty pictures, what have you modeled for?
Model: Guess.
Marcia: Are you a Breck girl?
Model: No, Guess Jeans.
Marcia: Levi's? Wrangler? Osh Kosh B'Gosh?

Holly: I think Peter's a babe... in a Gilligan sort of way.

Mike: Cindy, you know by tattling on your friends, you're really just tattling on yourself. By tattling on your friends, you're just telling them that you're a tattletale. Now is that the tale you want to tell?