Reese: I'm toilet-papering her house tonight. If that doesn't work, I'm out of ideas.
Malcolm: Look, Reese, maybe I can help you.
Reese: What am I supposed to do?
Malcolm: I don't know. Just try anything that doesn't make her cry. I guess you can start off by finding out stuff about her. You know, do the things she likes to do.
Reese: Is that before or after I go TP her house?
Malcolm: Instead.

Lois: Honestly, Hal, I don't know what's wrong with Reese.
Hal: Oh, he's just a little slow.
Lois: No. I mean the way he's been acting.
Reese: Hey, Mom, where's the iron? Ah.
Lois & Hal: It's a girl.

[Dewey imagines:]
Dewey: Mom? Dad? I'd really like a Herbie doll. I know it's expensive, but I don't ask for a lot. And I've been very good lately.
[in reality, Dewey is having a tantrum on the floor:]
Dewey: I want it! I want it! I want it! I want it! I want it! I want it! I want it!
Lois: Looks like he found the sugar.
Hal: Oh, doesn't he look just like a little dust mop?

Lloyd: Hey, Malcolm. You think your brother will lend me his corset?
Malcolm: [to camera] When a Krelboyne makes fun of you, you know you're in trouble.
Lloyd: See, that comment was playing off the concept that we all have specific notions of gender-appropriate roles.
Malcolm: [to camera] At least they're no good at it.

Spangler: [o.s.] My mother was neither a madonna or a whore! She was a damn fine woman.

Hal: Reese? Come on out. We need to have a talk.
Malcolm: Finally.
Hal: Malcolm, you're in on this talk too.
Malcolm: Me?! Why do I have to be here?
Hal: Relax. It's going to be far worse for me than it is for you.

Spangler: There was so much I wanted to tell her, but she was gone and I... I...
Francis: Come on, sir. Just say it.
Spangler: I hated her! [whimpers] [sniffles] All these issues with my mother. I know now that this was not an accident.
Francis: You know, talking with you has helped me work out some things with my own family. I mean, all those years I blamed my parents for every senseless act of self-destruction. And all this time I was at least partially responsible for a couple of them. [class bell rings] [both salute] You know, it really means a lot to me to know that I can come to you when I need to talk.
Spangler: Familiarity breeds contempt, cadet. [closes door]

Reese: What? I took a shower. Is that a crime?
Lois: Reese, is this going to be a daily thing? Because we got a schedule-
Hal: Honey, let me handle this. Son, are you on drugs?
Reese: No, it's just- Why doesn't everyone just leave me alone?!
Malcolm: [to camera] Wow, usually we don't get someone storming off from the table until after pancakes.

Malcolm: Reese, why are you dressed like that?
Reese: I figured out what she likes. I saw her cheering for the football team, so I joined the cheerleading squad.
Malcolm: Why didn't you join the football team, doofus?
Reese: She's a cheerleader.
Malcolm: Reese, you're a guy. Guy cheerleaders are the lowest of the low. Worse than band, worse than Krelboynes. The only thing lower is that guy that never takes his hand out of his butt.
Reese: Oh, Chester? He's a cheerleader too. Does a lot of solo work.
Malcolm: [to camera] I tried to help him. I gave him advice. I tried reasoning with him. There's only one thing left to do... sit back and laugh my ass off. [to Reese] Good luck.

Reese: Does this look anything like a "Q"?
Malcolm: Reese, just stop this. You're acting like a moron. And you're making no progress with Wendy. And what the hell do you need a "Q" for anyway?
Reese: You're right. I'm terrible. I'm just not coordinated unless I'm hitting somebody. But I really like her. I have to get good.
Malcolm: Listen to the words. Good. Boy. Cheerleader. Quit while you still have some dignity.
Reese: Oh, and let her think I'm a quitter?