Hal: I have Kobe beef.
Reese: No way.
Reese: That's like $60 an ounce.
Hal: I know. I won it in a Minesweeper tournament at work. Years of practicing eight hours a day has finally paid off.
Fran: When your milk duct is blocked, it's called mastitis. It's important that you let your baby suck the obstruction out of the breast, and don't be alarmed if the baby then vomits up a cottage cheese-type substance. Now, join me over here...
Dewey: Like I needed another reason to hate cottage cheese.
Reese: I've been kind of zoning in and out here, but did she just say milk comes out of those things?
Malcolm: Reese, that's what they're for.
Reese: My God! Women are the cows of people!
Hal: Hi, son. Didn't hear you drive up.
Malcolm: I decided to walk.
Hal: So, how's the job going?
Malcolm: They were jerks, so I quit.
Hal: Well, that's pretty much what work is. Welcome to the club.
Lois: Good morning, Malcolm. There's money on the counter for your yearbook.
Malcolm: I don't want to buy a yearbook. I don't want anything that will remind me I ever went to that stupid school.
Reese: How can you say that? Being part of a group is important. Don't you care about loyalty? I think loyalty is the most important thing there is.
Lois: Well, I'm glad at least one of my sons knows something about that.
[Reese sees the mail man walking down the drive:]
Reese: [shouts through the window] Hey! What are you doing here?! This isn't your house! You don't live here! We live here! This is our house! What do you want?! Huh?! What?! What?! What?! What?! What?! What?! What?! What?!
Malcolm: You know what? I'm glad! This is appropriate. Now my life looks exactly how I feel. How could you screw me over like that?
Lois: Because you were going to take that job, and we are not going to let you throw your life away.
Malcolm: How is being rich throwing my life away?!
Lois: Because it's not the life you're supposed to have! The life you're supposed to have is you go to Harvard, and you earn every fellowship and internship they have. You graduate first in your class, and you start working in public service, either district attorney or running some foundation, and then you become governor of a mid-sized state, and then you become president.
Lois: Of the United States.
Hal: I'm sorry, son. It's true.
Francis: I thought you knew.
Hal: Our expectations started out much smaller, but you just kept upping the ante.
Lois: [over P.A.] Attention, Lucky Aide trespasser. You do not get to do this. You do not get to live off the grid. If anyone on the planet was entitled to hide from all the aggravation, it would be me, but I don't, do you understand? No one gets to shirk their share of the misery. Everyone has to be stuck in this together. That's what's fair. Those are the rules. Now, you obviously know me, so you know what I'm willing to do to find you. So save us both the time and come out now.
[Norm emerges from an aisle]
Craig: Let me handle this. [to Norm] Do you know anything about a guy living in the store?
Principal Block: What the hell is this?
Malcolm: It's "Car Crash." It's a story for the literary magazine.
Principal Block: It's pornography.
Malcolm: How is it pornography?
Principal Block: "The construction worker yelled out, '[bleep] my [bleep]'." "[bleep] my [bleep]"?!
Malcolm: It's supposed to be offensive. That's the whole point of the story. It's a literary device.
Principal Block: There's nothing literary about "[bleep] my [bleep]"! Parents don't want their children reading "[bleep] my [bleep]". This school district has a zero tolerance policy on "[bleep] my [bleep]"! Our forefathers did not lay down their lives on San Juan Hill for "[bleep] my [bleep]"! Now, you either kill this story or replace all the dirty words with asterisks.
Malcolm: That's just stupid. What's the point of bleeping out words? Everyone knows what they are anyway.
Malcolm: Why do you do this to me?
Lois: Malcolm, I know this is hard for you. You're growing up. You're sick of living under my authority. You want me to cut you some slack. You're wondering when I'll finally see you as an adult. Well... that's never going to happen. That's just not the way it works. You can move away from home, you can get married, even have kids of your own, you can even become a professor of physics at MIT. I will always be your mother. And that's just the way it is until one of us dies. You want to put your head between your knees for a few seconds?
Malcolm: No, I'm okay. Look... will you please just give me one thing? Please stop smoking.
Lois: I already quit.
Malcolm: Are you lying?
Lois: Of course not.
Dewey: Mom, I have a proposal for you. Now, before you start poking holes in it, I'd like you to hear me out. All I want is no more school and no more big boy clothes. I'd liked to be bathed and rocked before I go to sleep and have all my food mashed up. In return, I'll be adorable and...
Lois: Are you wearing a diaper?
Dewey: I want you to know my level of commitment. [clenches face]
Lois: [o.s.] Oh, my God!
Lois: A peptic ulcer? How did you manage to get a peptic ulcer? The doctor said you have the stomach lining of a 60-year-old air traffic controller. You are a teenager, for God's sake. What do you have to be stressed about?!
Malcolm: For your information, I just spent the past three hours on a gurney next to a guy who is still trying to smoke out of the hole in his neck. And the jackass who put in this I.V. couldn't find a vein with two hands and a flashlight! My call button doesn't work! These stupid sheets are itchy. There's only one channel on the TV. And what's this about a bedpan?!