Malcolm: What the hell is wrong with me?! Why can't I just learn to shut up?
Stevie: We're... the same. We speak... before... we think.

Dewey: Ever since the day I was born, you guys have been torturing me. I remember you trying to switch me for another baby at the park. I remember you telling me the tooth fairy was a vampire. I remember every wet willy, every booger sandwich, every stink hat-
Reese: Dewey, we're sorry!
Dewey: ...every waffle butt, every Chester Backster and every purple nurple! And now you're going to pay. [Marshmallow barks]
Malcolm: Dewey, this isn't gonna work. Mom and Dad'll be home in a few hours, that dog will be gone, you'll be in trouble and we'll kick your ass for the next ten years!
Dewey: I know. So we'd better get started.
Malcolm: What do you want?
Dewey: Everything. I want everything.

Lois: Malcolm, no. If you want this thing so badly pay for it with your own money. You're going to start to baby-sit next week. Just save up.
Malcolm: I don't even know what they're going to pay me.
Lois: I'll tell you what they're going to pay you. They're going to pay you what all jobs pay - less than you're worth and just enough to keep you crawling back for more. Now go on, it's bedtime.

Lois: You listen to me, young man. That one lunch obviously meant a lot to Stevie. He's a human being with human feelings. Now, you are going to be friends with that crippled boy and you are going to like it. Understood?
Malcolm: Yes, ma'am. Understood. [to camera] If I give up now, I won't get the lecture.
Lois: You kids...
Malcolm: Dang.
Lois: You just take your legs for granted like nothing could ever happen to them. Well, let me tell you something, that is just wishful thinking. There's meningitis. There are car accidents. I could be giving you a spanking and accidentally snap your spinal cord. Every day is a lottery and first prize is that you don't have to scoot yourself around town on a skateboard with your hands. You think about that.
Dewey: I don't take my legs for granted, Mom.
Lois: I know, honey. You're a good boy. Stop playing with yourself.

Lois: Why are you pacing?
Hal: Let me ask you something, Lois. What would you do if, hypothetically, through a series of unforeseeable circumstances, you found yourself commanding an army of benevolent strongmen?
Lois: What?
Hal: Picture it. A dozen guys, any one of them can rip a horse in half, willing to follow your every command. Well, you'd have to do something really great with that. Something noble and unselfish, but not too expensive. And we are not even taking into account that I could easily be led to the dark side. Lois, you have to promise me, if you ever see me holding a cat and laughing maniacally over a globe, you need to let me know.

Lois: I don't understand why you don't want to go to this picnic, Malcolm. I think it sounds like fun.
Hal: Yeah, sitting on the grass, eating barbecue.
Malcolm: It's Krelboyne. It's not going to be on the grass because half the class is allergic. And don't expect any meat either, because they all voted not to serve anything that ever had a mother.
Dewey: Cousin Nancy doesn't have a mother.
Lois: That's right. She has two daddies.
Reese: Oh, man, two guys as your parents? That house has got to be a dude's paradise.

Malcolm: It's not funny. It's awful. I did something horrible. Don't you even care?
Hal: Well, it's nothing to be proud of, son, but you told us the whole story and he didn't give you much choice. It was an honest beating mistake.
Reese: Besides, it sends a good message to our enemies.
Malcolm: What are you talking about? What enemies?
Reese: Oh, they're out there. And once they know we're capable of this... they'll know we're capable of anything. [birds squaw]
Malcolm: [to camera] Okay, so it's not just me, right? There's something seriously wrong with this family.

Malcolm: [to camera] I did the math once. It turns out every 17.4 dinners, my family actually has a pleasant meal together.
Hal: Hey, look at this. I made a pea angel. [laughter]
Lois: Oh, you're a pea angel. Stop playing with your food. [Lois smiles with her teeth caked in food] [laughter]
Reese: [aims a spoonful of mashed potato] Oh, Mom...
Lois: Don't you dare.
Reese: Relax, I wasn't really going to.
Lois: Then don't.
Reese: I wasn't going to.
Lois: Then don't.
Reese: Well, don't accuse me of something that I wasn't going to do.
Malcolm: [to camera] Interesting mood shift. It would take hours to explain the psychology behind this. So let me just put it this way: [points to Lois] dynamite... [points to Reese] kid with matches.

Lois: That doesn't matter. What does matter is you'll be the only person in that position who will ever give a crap about people like us. We've been getting the short end of the stick for thousands of years, and I, for one, am sick of it. Now, you are going to be president, mister, and that's the end of it.
Malcolm: Did it ever occur to you that I could have taken this job, gotten really rich and then bought my way into being president?
Lois: Of course it did. We decided against it.
Malcolm: What?!
Lois: Because then you wouldn't be a good president. You wouldn't have suffered enough.
Malcolm: I've been suffering all my life.
Lois: I'm sorry, it's not enough. You know what it's like to be poor, and you know what it's like to work hard. Now you're going to learn what it's like to sweep floors and bust your ass and accomplish twice as much as all the kids around you. And it won't mean anything because they will still look down on you. And you will want so much for them to like you, and they just won't. And it'll break your heart. And that'll make your heart bigger and open your eyes and finally you will realize that there's more to life than proving you're the smartest person in the world. I'm sorry, Malcolm, but you don't get the easy path. You don't get to just have fun and be rich and live the life of luxury.
Hal: That's Dewey.
Dewey: Really?
Malcolm: This is unbelievable. You actually expect me to be president. No, no, I'm sorry. You expect me to be one of the greatest presidents in the history of the United States.
Lois: You look me in the eye and you tell me you can't do it.

Dewey: Is that a bee?
Hal: That is how you know it's fresh. You won't find any bees in your store-bought honey, I'll tell you that much.
Dewey: Where did this come from?
Hal: Spoils of war, Dewey. You know that beehive in the toolshed I've been battling for months? Victory is mine.
Dewey: You did it yourself? How'd you know how to do that?
Hal: It's instinctual. See, human beings were born with everything they need to destroy bees. Except the poison, you have to buy that.
Dewey: I feel kind of sorry for the bees, though.
Hal: It's survival of the fittest, Dewey. If they had won, they'd be spreading us on toast right now.