Mrs. White: First, we sort by the number of holes, then by color. What's in your mouth?
Dewey: Nothing.
Mrs. White: There are at least 20 things I will not tolerate and lying is one of them. Spit it out. [Dewey spits a button into her hand] You're eating my buttons.
Dewey: I wasn't eating. I was saving.
Mrs. White: What are you, a hamster? What were you saving it for?
Dewey: I don't know. It's pretty. It's my favorite one.
Mrs. White: You know, actually, it's my favorite, too. What do you think of this one?
Dewey: It's ugly. I hate it.
Mrs. White: So do I. My, you're a smart little boy.

Lois: Do you think we're wealthy?!
Malcolm: What?!
Lois: Do you think we're wealthy? Wealthy people drive fancy cars. They buy fresh pasta. Do we do any of those things? No! Wealthy people can afford to have their vacations ruined. No big deal. They just pick up and they go again. Your father and I work so hard. We work so long. What is wrong with you two?! Are you aborigines?! Every time I turn around, I hear someone screaming and fighting, and I pray to God it's someone else's kids, but it's not. [Malcolm looks at Lois standing in the flume and then looks at Reese] It's always you! Sane children would appreciate this... [Malcolm gets Reese's attention and looks down at Lois. Reese shakes his head, but Malcolm insists.] ...but you have to keep going at each other like rabid monkeys! It is not enough that you do this every day. You have to make me suffer, too. So help me! [looks at Malcolm and Reese] Don't you dare!
[As Lois points a stern finger at Malcolm, he reaches out and pokes her finger, sending her falling back into the slide]
Lois: [screams]
Life Guard: Arms and legs crossed at all times!
Reese: That is the bravest thing I've ever seen you do.
Malcolm: Yeah.
Reese: You're going to die.
Malcolm: I know. So, do you think she's okay? [Lois growls as she pulls the boys into the slide]

Spangler: I just got a call from the sheriff that a cocksure, smart-mouthed youth looking very much like yourself has been hustling pool at the local bars.
Francis: Really, sir?
Spangler: You are in serious trouble, cadet.
Francis: I can explain-
Spangler: Why have you been holding back when we've played pool?
Francis: What?
Spangler: I want to know why you've been letting me win.
Francis: Sir, if I played for real I'd just end up humiliating you in front of the school, and and you'd, you know, torture us all for it. Really, nothing good could come from it, and and besides, winning seems to make you so happy.
Spangler: I am not a child. Do you really think me so petty that I would throw a tantrum over something so small as a game of pool?!
Francis: My mistake, sir.
Spangler: We are going to play again. And you are going to give me your best game, cadet. And to make sure of that, if you don't win... Picture yourself, 0400, awakened from sweet dreams of Mommy, sent outside into the bitter cold to raise our school colors and stand at attention for three hours until reveille is called. Now, picture that for 230 consecutive days.
Francis: But what if I try my best and I still lose?
Spangler: Then you shall be miserable indeed. Dismissed.