Mark: I don't want to look like a dork.
Wilson: Well, may I suggest an alternative solution that will help improve your eyesight? Here's a handy little trick I picked up from a Russian ophthalmologist I met at a caviar-tasting festival. Take a piece of paper and you make a tiny, tiny, tiny little hole, then you hold it up to your eye, and it will correct your myopia by allowing the eye to refocus light upon a mosaic of photosensitive receptors.
Mark: What?
Wilson: It'll help you see better.
Mark: Wow! It really works.
Wilson: Uh-huh. And if you use two, it's twice as effective.
Mark: This is great! I'll never have to wear glasses. And I won't look like a dork.
Brad: Mark, Mark, buddy. Just tell me one thing. [takes the pieces of paper and holds them to his eyes] What do I look like?
Mark: A dork.

Tim: He does well in school. Maybe the teacher doesn't like him.
Jill: Well, how could she not like him? Mark is adorable.
Tim: Oh, come on. In fourth grade I was adorable. My teacher hated me. Fifth grade teacher didn't like me. Sixth grade teacher really had something out for me. Seventh grade was a nightmare.
Jill: Tim, are you noticing a pattern here?
Tim: I had a string of bad teachers.

Al: There is no such thing as a gas-powered porcupine!
Tim: It all depends on what it had to eat. [laughs] Watch how beautifully this seams our lovely wheat-colored Berber. [Tim rips the carpet to shreds]
Al: Well, way to go, Tim. And what would you call that?
Tim: Shredded Wheat Berber.