Dr. Mumford: So, Smithers, what school do you go to? What college have you applied to? And what's your career plans?
Will: Bel-Air Academy, Princeton, and thoracic surgery, sir.
Dr. Mumford: Thoracic surgery. That's my field. What aspect of it interests you the most?
Will: Um... The cutting part.
Dr. Mumford: Ah, that's the part I like, too. Listen, I'm glad you're a fan of polo. You know, I have a very fine string of Arabians.
Will: Oh, really? With turbans and everything?
Dr. Mumford: [chuckles] Very funny, Smithers. You had me there for a moment. I thought you were a blithering idiot.
Will: [nervous laugh]
Dr. Mumford: Ah, there's my daughter. Would you like to meet her?
Will: Oh, gosh, sir. There's a big question mark on that one. I seem to be painfully shy with the fairer sex.

Ashley: Will has a crush on Mimi Mumford.
Hilary: That fat girl?
Will: Mimi is not fat.
Hilary: Not today. Liposuction. She's been vacuumed more times than a hooked rug.
Will: Well, she looks good now, right? I don't see your point.
Hilary: Just wave a chili-cheese dog in front of her nose and see how much of your arm you come back with.
Will.

Philip: Will, so, how did it go with Mimi Mumford?
Ashley: He struck out.
Vivian: Okay, Will, you've taken advice from Carlton, from Philip, and Geoffrey, but you have not gone to the most logical source: the woman of the house. Now, before I was married, I had my share of admirers.
Philip: A sorrier bunch of deadbeats you'll never meet.
Vivian: The ones that I was most attracted to were the ones who were secure enough to just be themselves. And that's my advice to you. Just be yourself.
Will: Thanks, Aunt Viv.

Carlton: So, Will, are you going to take Mom's advice?
Will: Man, you got to be crazy. Mimi wants a street-wise, Harley, bad-to-the-bones type guy, man. If I could show her that I'm dangerous, I'll have her like that.
Carlton: I'll bet you wouldn't.
Will: I bet I would.
Carlton: I'll bet you wouldn't.
Will: I bet you wouldn't.
Carlton: I bet you would.
Will: See, I fooled you.

Carlton: Mimi, top of the evening.
Mimi: Carlton, for the 900th time, no, I will not go out with you.
Will: I thought you said she wasn't your type.
Carlton: She isn't. She's too negative. I'm not here for that. Although if you just gave it some objective thought...

Carlton: Anyway, I'm here for him.
Mimi: Does he need to go to the bathroom?
Carlton: No, he's just being his bad self. What you saw before was just a charade. Kip is his street name. K-l-P. It stands for conceived in prison. He's my cousin and he's from the Bedford-Stuyvesant region of Brooklyn wherein he is a felon.
Mimi: Okay. Then what's he doing here in Bel-Air?
Carlton: He's living with us to escape, and I quote, "the man." Voila.

Carlton: This music is def, exceptionally def.
Will: Carlton, beat it!
Carlton: I'm dope. Yo.

Dr. Mumford: Smithers, what is the meaning of that ridiculous hat?
Will: Who put this on my head?
Mimi: Daddy, isn't he funny?
Dr. Mumford: No. He disgusts me. Get out of my sight.
Mimi: Wait a minute. You can't talk to him like that, Daddy. He's practically a convicted killer, and I love him.
Dr. Mumford: A convicted killer? Who are you?
Will: All right, all right, all right, look. I'm not a young Republican from Connecticut and I'm not a hood from Bed-Stuy. I'm Will Smith from West Philly and I've been busting my butt all night trying to impress you and trying to scare you. And I'm exhausted. I'm going home, and I'm going to sleep 'cause, baby, ain't no girl that fly for me to go through all this trouble for. [sees another woman] Yo, baby. Yo, baby. Yo, what's up?

Hilary: What dog did he steal that sweater from?
Toni: Probably his wife.
Hilary: Good God, who shot the couch?
Toni: Give her a break, Hilary. She just won the Kentucky Derby. Whoa, who's that lady with Nell Carter?
Hilary: That's not Nell Carter. That's my father! God, you are so shallow. I hate you. You're stupid and ugly and I wish you would die.
Toni: Sorry.
Hilary: Okay.
Toni: Whoa, look at her!

Carlton: Brake! Hit the brake, Will!
Philip: Will, what in the hell are you doing?
Will: I'm sorry, man. It ain't my fault. I panicked. That squirrel came out of nowhere.