Tim: Wilson that's the best part about being a boy, is collecting all that useless junk.
Wilson: I wouldn't call it "useless", Tim. The ancient Malaysians used the turtle shell as an aphrodisiac.
Tim: Turtle shell? Wouldn't that hurt putting it on?

Tim: People often ask me, they say: "Tim, why is your show so darn popular?" I tell you what I think. I think that working with your hands puts you in touch with something primitive, almost atavistic. It's almost like reclaiming the male spirit, if you will. I think you know where I'm headed with this one. I'm talking about a masculinism. A flat-out, big-pectoral, look-at-my-deltoids, hairy-chested celebration of men. [grunts] But this wouldn't be anti-female. No, no, it's wrong to think that. Just like this sander vibrates in harmony with the grain of the wood, we men should learn how to vibrate in harmony with our wives. So, if ya... if you have an occasion, have a disagreement with your wife, you should be man enough to not be asymmetrical. Because that would be one-sided. But you should be man enough to look at her and say, "I'm sorry, Jill..." Or Betty or Ruth or whatever her name would be. Anyway, let's finish sanding that table.

Mark: [o.s.] Help.
Jill: Tim, would you go see who's killing who out there?
Tim: I can only imagine. Randy, what are you doing to your younger brother?
Randy: [o.s.] I'm just hanging him from the junglegym.
Mark: Help.
Tim: Don't do that.
Randy: He likes it.
Tim: Randy, you let go of that rope or I'm gonna hot-glue your little head to the garage door.

Tim: You won't even know I'm gone.
Jill: Tim, walk out that door and this goes in the trash compactor.
Tim: Whoa. That's my Binford power tape with positive toggle lock.
Jill: Kiss it goodbye.
Tim: Don't turn that on.
Jill: Are you staying?
Tim: Yes. God, you're mean to me. [opens the trash compactor] Aw, there's food boogers all over it.

Tim: You know, honey, I could fix the spray on this dishwasher.
Jill: No, Tim. It's not broken.
Tim: I know. It just needs more power.
Jill: Every time you fix something the fire department shows up.
Tim: This would be different because I got this...
Jill: No, no, no. I am not gonna let you ruin a perfectly good dishwasher just so you can get out your tools and play.
Tim: Six horse...
Jill: No.
Tim: One...
Jill: No. No.
Tim: Play? I host my own home improvement show.

Tim: All right. We gotta get this done before your mom gets home, OK? Take a look at this bad boy. That's a Finley two-stage, five-horse Blastmaster compressor. All tubing inside is stainless steel...
Randy: Dad, why are we doing this?
Tim: Randy, it's a house full of men. We're reclaiming the male spirit. Huh?
Brad: By working on a dishwasher?
Tim: It's either that or sitting around a campfire telling stories naked. [Brad and Randy run off] Hey, hey, hey. Where you guys going? I'm kidding around. It's just you and me, Mark. Unless you got something else to do.
Mark: No, I want to be with you.
Tim: Great. [Mark takes off his shirt] What are you doing?
Mark: Getting naked.
Tim: You don't have to get all the way naked. All right, this is bare-chested men's work. Come over here.

Randy: Look at this neat turtle shell. I found it down at the creek.
Tim: You didn't yank the turtle out of there, did you?
Randy: No.
Tim: If I go down to that creek and find some confused turtle swimming without a shell...
Randy: Dad, I'm gonna go make it into a drum.

Tim: Boy, does that smell good. Baby-back ribs?
Wilson: No, no, no. Squirrel. I tell you, Tim, this is what it's all about. Catch-of-the-day cooking, sun setting, men standing around the campfire, telling stories.
Tim: You mind if I tell you a story, Wilson?
Wilson: Campfire's lit, good neighbor.

Jill: What you said on the show today was really sweet, Tim.
Tim: I don't know if you noticed, but your name is Jill, and I used the name Jill. Maybe you caught the hidden double meaning.
Jill: It was subtle, dear, but I did grasp it.

Tim: You know, Jill, I still think you're making a big mistake not letting me install that dishwasher.
Jill: I have other plans for you.
Tim: You do?
Jill: Yeah. When was the last time that we spent any serious time together in the back seat of a car?
Tim: When Brad threw up that pizza.
Jill: [laughs] No, no, really. You apologized to me, I think I should apologize to you.
Tim: Really?
Jill: Yeah, and I really wanna do it right.
Tim: Yeah? Back seat? [removes his shirt] Garage? Just like our honeymoon?
[After Tim steps into the garage, Jill throws his pants out]
Jill: Here, let me get that. And that. [locks the garage door]