Mr. Herkabe: [to Malcolm] Interesting gambit but I guess the lemmings didn't follow you off the cliff. When you spend some time in the real world, you realize you can't fight the system. And now... I'm the system.

Mr. Herkabe: Malcolm, I need you to do a job for me. It's urgent. I've been exchanging some very meaningful glances with one of the contestants.
Malcolm: You know they're all married, don't you?
Mr. Herkabe: Yes, of course. And that's why it would be indecent of me not to be discrete. Darlene Fisher. Green sweat suit. I need you to pass her this note for me.
Malcolm: You want me to find out if she likes you? Forget it.
Mr. Herkabe: I respect your stand, Malcolm, and I want you to know this will in no way affect my judging of your mother. Or will it?

Mr. Herkabe: Class, today we begin a new round of independent study projects.
Kevin: Hydrostatic equilibrium? My God, I'm still mired on integral quantisation. My stepdad's right. I'm useless!
Mr. Herkabe: Well, the cold, hard fact of life is some are more advanced than others. Some even think they're more advanced than me.
Malcolm: I never said that.
Mr. Herkabe: And yet you assume I'm talking about you.
Malcolm: You're looking right at me!

Lois: Mr. Herkabe.
Mr. Herkabe: Good morning.
Lois: It is so exciting being here on the first day of school.
Mr. Herkabe: Yes. It's like being at the cockfights before they open the cages.
Hal: So the two hours a day, does that include travel time? Because there was a lot of traffic.
Mr. Herkabe: So, you'll be handing out health forms and you report to the North Field.
Hal: Can't we do something together?
Mr. Herkabe: Let me check. Uh... no. But don't we both feel better knowing we tried?

Malcolm: I want out of the Booster club. You can blackmail me all you want, but those kids are stupid, the auctioneer job is stupid, the whole thing blows and I'm quitting.
Mr. Herkabe: Someone's putting the "boo" in booster.
Malcolm: Did you see the crap they're trying to auction? 500 takeout menus from a Chinese restaurant, an AOL starter kit, scrapbook lessons, a 15-minute neck massage from Earl the janitor. Nobody wants that stuff. I'm out of there.
Mr. Herkabe: Good for you. Go right ahead.
Malcolm: What?
Mr. Herkabe: I officially stopped caring at 2:15 when I was handed this check. And now I can finally splurge on new brake pads and treat my Civic like the lady that she is. You should really learn to trust me, Malcolm. It worked out well for everyone. I got my money, you get to quit, and the Boosters get to be rid of you.

Mr. Herkabe: I'm sure you're all convinced, by virtue of you being in this class, your intellects tower above the tiny-minded, plebeians wasting oxygen in the rest of the school. But, to some, you are nothing more than howling primates. I am very excited to announce today that we are welcoming to our class a new student. A young man of unparalleled intellect. As near as we can measure, his IQ is over 280. [all gasps]
Lloyd: Those tests are culturally biased!
Mr. Herkabe: Think what you will. Your petty fears no longer concern me. I finally have the mental clay worthy of my sculpting. Barton is a white-hot comet of brilliance, blazing through our dark corner of ignorance. A mind of such unfathomable reach and enormous power.
Barton: [enters] Can I come in now?
Mr. Herkabe: Barton, I thought I told you to wait till you heard, "A new era for man."
Barton: But there's a bee out there.

Dabney: OK, you know your Tolstoy and your Eliot... Let's see how you do with the Bard. "Every true man's apparel fits your thief."
Barton: Measure For Measure, Act 4, Scene 2. Could you hand me my green crayon?
Lloyd: Wow, he's right again.
Kevin: OK, Barton, let's try Chaucer's The Shipman's Tale.
Barton: Should I start with the prologue?
Kevin: Please. How about line 203?
Barton: "And when your husband has gone off to Flanders, I shall deliver you from fear of slanders, and on the word he caught her by the flanks and clasped her closely, giving her a riot of kisses, saying softly, 'Keep things quiet'".
Mr. Herkabe: What are you doing? [all gasp] Chaucer? I cannot believe you're polluting his mind with such pop culture drivel! I apologize for them, Barton. And I will do everything I can to minimize these annoying distractions so you can concentrate on the accelerated program I've laid out for you. Together we are gonna astonish the world.
Barton: Would you like a pixie stick?
Mr. Herkabe: Thank you.

Mr. Herkabe: Having problems, Malcolm? No, no, not you.
Malcolm: It's this stupid hydrostatic equilibrium. It just doesn't make any sense!
Mr. Herkabe: Well, it is hard. But don't despair. I'm here for you, Malcolm, and I'll make sure you get the help that you deserve.
[cut to Barton in Malcolm's bedroom:]
Barton: To estimate the pressure at the sun's center, assume a constant density of 1.41 grams per cubic cm. [off Malcolm's confusion] Am I going too fast for you?
Malcolm: You know, Herkabe only made you my tutor to humiliate me.
Barton: I thought it was to humiliate me.

Barton: I cleaned out my cubby.
Mr. Herkabe: You're sure I can't talk you into staying?
Barton: My Mom says I need a healthier environment. She thinks it's creepy the way you're using me for your own self-grandiosement.
Mr. Herkabe: A healthier environment? That's not what you need, son. You will never connect normally with another human being. People will recognize your brilliance and loathe you for it. The best you can hope for is uncomprehending fear... which I can channel into great things. Please?
Barton: Can I go now?
Mr. Herkabe: Sure. Go. You, my ex-wife, all of my therapists, you're all the same.

Mr. Herkabe: Don't make me blow this! Do not make me blow this! Who removed my whistle pea?! That is a detentionable offence!