Harry: Hey, what about me?
Dick: Well, what about you?
Harry: Well, that's my point. I mean, you're the High Commander, and she's in charge of security. He's the information officer. What am I?
Dick: Well, you're... you're Harry.
Harry: Oh, sure, I got the fancy title, but what do I do? What am I good at?

Dick: Of course Harry needs a father. I should have seen it. Well, I can fill those shoes. I'm pretending to be your father. Of course, I may have to neglect you for awhile.
Tommy: I know. I don't mind. You're a terrible father, anyway.
Dick: Well, you're a lousy son.
Tommy: I'm old and set in my ways.

Dick: Okay, tomorrow there will be a pop quiz on the effects of thermal dynamics. Remember, it's a pop quiz. If you study, I'll know!

Dick: I wasn't going to say this. Harry, you've got a thing in your head.
Harry: A thing?
Dick: A cranial micro-receiver chip.
Harry: In my head?
Dick: Yes, but it's not in the part you use. It's in your brain.

Harry: So I have a receiver chip in my brain. And I have this, why?
Dick: Well, because sometimes our supreme leader, the Big Giant Head, well, he needs to communicate with us, and we picked you. You, Harry. Without you, we can't maintain contact with the home office. There now, don't you see how important you are?
Harry: Well, does Tommy know about this?
Dick: Yes.
Harry: Does Sally know about this?
Dick: Yes.
Harry: Do you know about this?

Tommy: Yeah, all this romance talk makes me want to call my girlfriend. [picks up Harry's arm] Hey, Harry, can you give me a dial tone? [laughs]
Harry: Well, aren't we witty. Let me ask you this. Has the Big Giant Head ever called us?
Dick: Not yet.
Tommy: Well, how will we know when he does?
Dick: Well, when the Big Giant Head calls, Harry will suddenly go blank and stare off into space.
Tommy: Like I said, how will we know when he does?

Dick: What's this, Tommy?
Tommy: Star Wars. It's a movie.
Dick: What's all that supposed to be?
Tommy: Outer space. Can you believe it? [both laugh]
Dick: If outer space was that happening, I never would have left.

Mrs. Dubcek: You are in big trouble, and big, big trouble.
Dick: What's going on?
Mrs. Dubcek: He was painting something awful on the side of the house.
Harry: A post-impressionist urban mural. I was given full permission. Tell her, Dick.
Dick: Well, I promise you, Mrs. Dubcek, Harry will not go unpunished. He will sit in his room and think about what he did while you repaint your house.
Mrs. Dubcek: Idle hands do the devil's work. Now, when I was a young girl...
Dick: The glacier receded, creating the Great Lakes. I'm sure it was incredible. Bye-bye, now. Good-bye. Bye-bye, now. Good-bye.

Harry: Well, thanks a lot, Dick. You tell me to paint, and then you hang me out to dry like a shirt, a wet shirt. A wet shirt that needs drying.

Dick: Well, it's going to be different with my second son. I'm going to be a terrific father to Harry.
Tommy: Oh, sure.
Dick: And I'm going to start off by being completely honest with him.
Tommy: What do you mean, honest?
Dick: I'm going to tell him about that thing that they put in his head.
Tommy: Oh, no, no.
Sally: You can't tell him about the thing.
Tommy: Telling him about the thing would be a bad thing.
Sally: Shh! Ix-nay on the thing-thay.