Dick: Line 14. "Other gains or losses."
Tommy: I gained 2 pounds.
Sally: I lost my virginity.
Harry: Hey. There's your opportunity for that frequent sex thing going to throw in.

Dick: Okay, everybody, I've got it. I played with the numbers a bit, entered a few harmless clerical mistakes, and guess what. The government now owes us $375,000!
Tommy: Wow.
Sally: Oh, yeah!
Tommy: Who needs Ed McMahon? We've got Uncle Sam!
Dick: This is really working out great for us. If we keep doing our taxes like this, in a few years, we'll be millionaires.

Dick: All right, let's focus and go over it once again. Before we moved here on January 9, 1996, where did we live... Sally?
Sally: 2740 Vernon Place, Stewart, Florida, sir!
Dick: And Florida would be on what, Neptune?
Sally: No! Earth, sir!
Dick: That's good. And during our time in Florida, was I ever gainfully employed?
Sally: No, you were not!
Dick: So how did we live?
Sally: By our wits, sir!

Mary: Sally, I had no idea you'd gone to beauty school.
Sally: Oh, sure. Back in '92. Remember '92, Tommy?
Tommy: Sure. 1992. The year we danced to the music of Vanilla Ice, and Scent of a Woman introduced America to a young heartthrob named Chris O'Donnell.

Dick: Okay, listen up. I've got horrible news. We're being audited by the I.R.S.
Tommy: What? Does that mean we don't get the $375,000?
Dick: It's worse. Agents of the government are gonna go through our lives with a fine-tooth comb. Every detail of our past examined under a microscope, for the last six years!
Sally: So? We've only been on the planet for three.
Dick: That's the whole problem. The more they probe into our past, the more they'll find out we don't have one!
Harry: Because we're aliens.
Dick: That is the conclusion they will draw. [exasperated muttering]

Tommy: Okay. I got your new biographies done. You have to have them memorized by tomorrow. All right, Sally. From 1992 to 1994, you were an unpaid docent at the Museum of Chippewa Heritage.
Sally: No, no, no, no.
Harry: In a coma? Mm no, no, no, no, Miss Thing. I don't think so.
Tommy: Okay, you know what? I just spent two days documenting and falsifying these covers, but you go in there tomorrow and say whatever you want! It's your alien autopsy, okay?

Sally: This is what we're gonna do. When he comes back in, I break his neck. Then we make our escape, and I snap everyone's neck from here till we get home. There's no way they'll catch us!
Dick: Let's call that plan B.

Mary: You wanted to see me, Dick?
Dick: Oh, Mary, thank god. I wanted to show you that if you mix up the letters in your last name, it spells "lab right."
Mary: Okay. But what was the emergency that couldn't wait another second, that made me get off the phone with the chancellor?
Dick: "Lab right."

Harry: Dick, look. Something weird is going on at work. Doug's gonna make me pay taxes.
Dick: Everyone pays taxes, Harry. It is our duty, nay, our privilege to pay taxes when we purchase goods, such as chocolates and combs.
Mary: That's very noble of you, Dick, in February. Let's see what you say in April when you have to file your return.
Dick: My return?
Mary: Your tax return.
Dick: Oh. My tax return.
Mary: The one you file every year.
Dick: Oh, that. Yes. Well, Nina does all my filing. Uh, Nina!
Nina: [o.s.] What?
Dick: Uh, bring me my return.
Nina: [o.s.] Your return?
Dick: My return. My return. You see what I have to deal with? My return!

Harry: I'm telling you, there is no schedule P!
Tommy: There has to be, damn it!
Dick: I don't understand this! I'm a superior being. I can calculate the decaying orbit of a dying moon to within 1/10 of an inch. Why can't I calculate the subtotal of line 59-A? Why can't I find line 59-A? Where the hell is line 59-A?!
Sally: Calm down, Dick.
Dick: I can't take this anymore! [rips form] I hate it! I hate it! I hate it! I hate it! Oh, here it is. Everybody just settle down.