Miss Sharpe: Well, will Mrs. Banks be joining us?
Will: Uh, no, I'm single. I mean, um, Ashley's mother ran out on us. Ashley was but a mere tyke at the time. I had to be both Mommy and Daddy. We went from training wheels to training bras. They both came off too soon, didn't they, kitten?

Ashley: Okay. Mom, Dad, it's like this. Will has something he wants to tell you.
Will: I ain't got nothing. Um... Your Honor, uh... Now, before you deliver your verdict, the defense dictates that you sustain the motion of the ocean. Because most parents want the truth, but they can't handle the truth. So in conclusion, I move for a change of venue. What you say you give us a half-hour head start.

Vivian: Philip, I'm sure the mayor's mother meant it as a compliment.
Philip: Oh, really? Then I should be honored that she thinks I look like a Black Alfred Hitchcock. Hi kids.
Will: [as Hitchcock] Good evening.

Hilary: Will, I don't get it. My producer told me that I'm losing my Black audience.
Will: I don't see why, Hil. I mean, you got the best talk show on TV.
Hilary: You really think so? Well, what was your favorite topic?
Will: Uh... Uh, the one with the, uh... Dysfunctional, uh, single parent, uh, gang member nuns. Hil, I've never actually seen one of your shows.
Hilary: Will.
Will: Look, listen, Hilary, I'm sorry. You need to do some stuff that reaches out to your brothers and sisters.
Hilary: Why? What have Carlton and Ashley ever done for me?

Ashley: Will, I need your help.
Will: Ashley, let me sum this up for you in two words: Unh-unh.
Ashley: You know, I didn't want to have to say this. But it's your fault I'm in this mess.
Will: My fault? Oh, this one here gonna be good.
Ashley: Before you showed up, I was leading a nice, sheltered existence. But you made me see there was a whole world beyond Bel-Air filled with people who take public transportation and don't have butlers. I like that world. It's like a drug, Will, and you got me hooked.
Will: Well, you better go cold turkey before you wind up a dead duck.

Will: Mm. How could something so smooth be called sharp?
Miss Sharpe: Yes. Well, nice to finally meet you, Mr. Banks.
Will: Rhaul, please.
Miss Sharpe: [giggles] Rhaul. Oh, and welcome back from the Orient. Konnichi wa.
Will: God bless you, Miss Sharpe. It is Miss Sharpe, isn't it?
Miss Sharpe: Yes, it is.
Will: Mm. You're a fine teacher, Miss Sharpe. Hey, I bet you could teach me a thing or two... [Ashley pokes Will] On the academic side, I mean.

Geoffrey: Mail call. Wall Street Journal for Master Carlton.
Carlton: Thank you, Geoffrey.
Geoffrey: A statement from The Bank of Bel-Air for Miss Ashley. And a plain brown package for me. I'll be taking my break now.

Carlton: Bank of Bel-Air?
Ashley: Yeah. Well, bye. [exits]
Will: See you later, Ash.
Carlton: Something's afoot.
Will: And something's a foot and a half. [looks Carlton up and down]

Carlton: I'm talking about Ashley. I know where every penny of this family's money is. And none of it is in the Bank of Bel-Air.
Will: So?
Carlton: So, obviously, Ashley's hoarding money. And I know why. She's amassing a private fortune so she can buy out the family business in a hostile takeover.
Will: A sweater and a string of pearls and you'd be Angela Lansbury.

Ashley: Will, you don't understand. Everything's so fake at Bel-Air Academy. The teachers, the kids, the noses. I can't take it anymore. Please don't tell Daddy.
Will: [sighs] All right, I ain't gonna dime you but if he subpoenas me, I'm gonna be singing like Luther.