Wilson: Tim, Tim, Tim. The first step for greatness is humbling yourself. [Tim grunts] Maybe you shouldn't try to have all the answers, and instead ask more questions. You see, Tim, a truly wise man always has more questions than answers.
Tim: So... would that make me wiser than you, Wilson?
Wilson: Well, what do you think, Tim?

Tim: I want Brad to be a good student.
Wilson: Mm-hm.
Tim: So I told him that multiplying compound fractions is a real important part of that. But, you know, between you and me, it's kinda useless information.
Wilson: Well, I don't know about that, Tim. There was a time when I thought my extensive research into ancient tribal cultures, obscure scientific data, the thoughts of great philosophers, would never come in handy. Then you moved in.

Jill: Wilson, I've been thinking about this. Do you think that subconsciously I left the hot rod out in the snow to get back at Tim for dropping that two-ton beam on my station wagon?
Wilson: Well, Jill, that's a very interesting theory, but I'm sure that your leaving the car out was just an accident.
Jill: Yeah. But you know what Freud says about that, "There are no accidents."
Wilson: Well, obviously Freud never saw Tool Time.

Wilson: Well, maybe you can remind Brad of the famous Hindustan proverb: "True nobility lies not in being superior to another man, but in being superior to one's previous self."
Tim: Ooh, yeah!
Jill: That is so perfect.
Tim: Like it. Where do you keep coming up with these things?
Wilson: Oh, neighbor, neighbor. I've spent my entire life studying the wisdom of intelligent thinkers and philosophers. However, this one I read in a fortune cookie.

Wilson: A Ph.D.?! Tim? Aw, Jill, Jill, Jill, Jill... Do you realize how many hours I had to study to get my doctorate in forgotten languages and extinct cultures? Oh, my, my, my. Sitting in that library, reading that insufferable microfilm till I thought I would practically go blind? Not to mention that to support myself, I had to volunteer as a subject for lab experiments. Oh, oh. And the thing that really irritates me about this whole thing...
Jill: Wilson!
Wilson: Oh, Jill, Jill, talk me down, talk me down.

Wilson: Well, Jill, the renowned psychiatrist lrvin D. Yalom postulated that men relieve their isolation by bonding over common fears and experiences.
Jill: Oh, please, Yalom was talking about universality as it applies to formal therapy, not a bunch of guys sitting around dumping on their wives.
Wilson: [momentarily speechless] Well, well, well- That's an excellent point. However, knowing Tim, I'm sure it was just an innocent exchange bearing no real malice. [chuckles] As Freud so humorously pointed out, "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."
Jill: That is such a crock. As Carl Jung says: "if people can be educated to see the lowly side of their own natures, then they might also understand their fellow man or woman better."
Wilson: With due respect to Jung, I believe it was Bruno Bettelheim...
Jill: Oh, don't Bettelheim me. Tim was talking about me behind my back, and you know what Andrea Dworkin says about that.
Wilson: Well, actually, I don't.
Jill: She says that if women talk about people behind their backs, it's "gossip," but if men do it, it's "male bonding."
Wilson: You know, Jill, ever since you decided to go back to school, you've made things so very, very hard on me.

Jill: I had a patient come in and tell me that she'd had an affair with Heidi's husband. Heidi found out about it because I broke confidentiality and told Tim.
Wilson: Ah. Now you're telling me.
Jill: Oh, my God! I did it again. I can't believe it! I'm completely hopeless. You know, I'm just lucky that my supervisor never found out what I did.
Wilson: Well, you are right because she could've lost her license, and you could've been kicked out of the master's program.
Jill: Really?
Wilson: Oh, really. Also, the school could've been sued, and you might've been written about in textbooks for future generations to study.
Jill: Wilson, you're not making me feel any better.
Wilson: Well, excuse me! Why do I always have to be Santa's little helper? Well, I mean, I have wants. I-I-I- I have needs. I have issues. But does anyone ever come to the fence and say, "Wilson, do you have a problem?" I mean, no! It's just "Me, me, me, me!"

Tim: When I broke up with this girl, I never called to tell her.
Wilson: So, you lied to her?
Tim: No.
Wilson: Well, according to Robert Louis Stevenson, you did. He said, "The cruelest lies are often told in silence."
Tim: Hm. But didn't Calvin Coolidge say,"Nothing he never said ever did him any harm"?
Wilson: Very good. Thomas Mann once said, "A harmful truth is better than a useful lie."
Tim: Not bad. Wait, wait, wait! Turkish proverbs was, "He who tells the truth will be chased out of nine villages."
Wilson: Excellent. But I believe the final word would be Heywood Broun. "For truth there is no deadline."
Tim: Oh! That's three to two. You beat me, Wilson.

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: Well, you got it made. Unattached guy like you... You don't need permission to go to 40 Pistons games.
Wilson: Uh-oh. I take it Jill was not too thrilled with your recent purchase.
Tim: That's putting it mildly. First, she gave me the look.
Wilson: The look!
Tim: You know about the look?
Wilson: Oh, Tim, every man knows about the look. Wives have been giving their husbands the look for untold centuries. As a matter of fact, the look was the reason brides started wearing veils. It was long believed that the penetrating stare of a bride could weaken her husband and render him impotent.
Tim: I thought that was caused by all the brown liquor at the reception.
Wilson: Well, that could do it too, Tim.