Dick: Sally, where's my breakfast?
Sally: I'm working on it. [accidentally knocks Harry down with a frying pan]
Dick: Harry, what are you doing on the floor?
Harry: [stands up] I have no idea. But what is noble in a universe where entropy grips us in a fatal dance of nihilistic despair?
Dick: Why is he talking like this?
Sally: I don't know. All I did was this. [hits Harry again]
Dick: Give me this. If he's broken, it's going right into the report.
Harry: I wrote me a little song yesterday, and it goes like this. [sings] Hi-Dee hi hi-Dee ho, hi -Dee hi-Dee, hi-Dee, ho
Tommy: What's wrong with Harry?
Dick: I don't know. He seems to be having a reaction to a crushing skull blow.
Tommy: What, with this? [hits Harry]
Dick: Be careful. We could actually hurt Harry.
Harry: [imitating Ross Perot] Now, liberals want you to believe that more government is gonna solve your problems.
Dick: [hits Harry] I'm sorry. I couldn't live with that.