Brain: Pinky, are you pondering what I'm pondering?
Pinky: I think so, Brain, but if we didn't have ears we'd look like weasels.
Satan: Beyond these doors is an agony worse than all others. You will remain in here for eternity listening to... whiny protest songs from the Sixties.
Abe Lincoln: Ich bin ein Gettysburger.
Brain: I'd say puberty was inordinately kind to you.
Dot: Jack Sprat could eat no fat, so he became macrobiotic and an enormous pain in the neck.
Brain: Pinky are you thinking what I'm thinking?
Pinky: I think so Brain but where are we going to find rubber pants our size?
Yakko: Is this you? Are you happily engrossed in inconsequential cartoon trivia to the point that your socks can probably stand up by themselves?
Dot: My five-year mission is to seek out new worlds and make them cuter.
Yakko: Don't worry, siblings. We'll sell that nice man a box of cookies, or die trying. Or try dying. Or do some tie-dyeing.
Yakko: Well, we've decided. In outer space it's okay to wear white shoes after Labor Day.
Brain: Do you realise what we will do with this pollen, Pinky?
Pinky: Ummm... open a boutique?
Brain: Yes, that's it. We'll open a boutique and sell ladies' clothing and pollen.
A Crowd: Shhh.
Yakko: What, are you leaky tires?
Brain: Pinky! Are you pondering what I'm pondering?
Pinky: I think so Brain but how will we get the Spice Girls into the paella?
Man: Hey! You can't eat that.
Wakko: Needs salt.
Owner: I want a pet who'll come when I call and cuddle me when I've had a bad day.
Rita: Have a kid, lady.
Brain-2-Me-2: I've told you, I am not a refrigerator. I am a laboratory robot engaged in an intricate scheme of galactic domination.
Yakko: We'd love to stay here and count our brain cells as they die one-by-one.
Dot: But we can't.
Pinky: Whatcha doin' over there, Brain?
Brain: Contemplating your afterlife, Pinky.
Brain: It must be inordinately taxing to be such a boob.
Wakko: I think we deserve a spanking, right on our fanny.
