Lloyd: Hey, check out the new kid.
Stevie: Fresh... meat.
Dabney: You no longer have to live in fear.
Malcolm: What are you talking about?
Dabney: The hazing we put you through is over.
Malcolm: What hazing?
Lloyd: Oh, come on. When we gave you the warped lunch tray? When we dulled the points on your pencils? When you sneezed and no one said "Bless you"?
Dabney: I still feel bad about that.
Lloyd: Now she's taking your place as the whipping boy.

Lloyd: Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you the Nixon electromagnet.
[When Lloyd turns the magnet on, his head slams into the magnet as it attracts the metal braces on his teeth.]
Lloyd: [muffled sobbing] Turn it off!

Cynthia: [to a boy] Hi, I'm Cynthia. We don't know each other, but I'm having a party. See how it says, "8:00 till ?" That means it could go on ad infinitum. [chortles] See you there. [to a girl] Hi, I'm Cynthia. We don't know each other, but...
Malcolm: What is she doing, inviting the whole school?
Lloyd: I'm sorry. I can't talk right now. I'm saving all my good conversation for the party. For instance, there's an interesting piece in this month's New England Journal of Medicine.
Dabney: Hey, that's my anecdote.

Malcolm: Come on, Reese, the test is in two hours!
Reese: This is too much, Malcolm. I'll never pass this thing. There's 30 true-false questions and five essays. It's impossible.
Dabney: So, Reese, today's the big test?
Lloyd: What do you have to get on this thing to say out of remedial class?
Reese: A "B." [Krelboynes laugh]
Malcolm: No, guys, he's serious.
Stevie: But you're... an idiot.
Reese: You're right.
Lloyd: Yeah. The only way this idiot's going to pass the test is if somebody else takes it for the idiot. Right, idiot? [Reese grabs Lloyd by his sweater] Stevie set the precedent! You had a chance for rebuttal, but since you didn't answer you waived your right! Therefore, it's an agreed-upon term!

Lloyd: I've completed the research on our new teacher if anyone's interested. Lionel Herkabe. Born July 8th, 1963. Parents, John and Ida. Notice anything?
Stevie: He was... a Krelboyne.
Kevin: We won't have to talk down to him.
Dabney: Finally, someone who knows our pain.
Malcolm: Bentley. Gifted High. Princeton. Harvard Business. What's this guy doing teaching?
Lloyd: Well, there was some unpleasantness. He quit a government think tank to start a dot.com. [all groan]
Malcolm: One time net worth 200 million. Now 137 dollars.

Malcolm: I wonder what it's like to get beat up by a girl.
Lloyd: It's totally humiliating. You just want to die. Your brother didn't soil himself, did he?
Malcolm: No.
Lloyd: Neither did I.

Lloyd: Look at this handwriting, the girlish swirls. This is no old lady. It's Dabney.

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.

Lloyd: Well, what about my design for the polycarbonate body?
Stevie: It's a... butterfly!
Lloyd: Correction: killer butterfly. Beautiful yet deadly. The perfect killing machine.

Eraserhead: They're surrendering.
Lloyd: And I suppose I've ever been offered the chance to surrender. Keep firing!