Philip: Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen of the press and thank you very much for coming. I'd like to take this opportunity to formally announce my candidacy for the office of Superior Court Judge. [applause] Thank you. I plan on restoring faith in the judicial system. And I ask you: Do you really want six more years of the same tired plea-bargaining?
Will: [listening to the game] Yes, yes! What?
Dobson: Judge Robertson has been in office six straight terms. How do you intend to break that streak?
Philip: Uh, by focusing on the issues and not personality. Once the voters see where I stand, I'm sure I'll win this election.
Will: No, you idiot, you don't even deserve to sit on the bench. What?!

Vivian: I didn't know he had kids.
Philip: He doesn't. And that's not his wife. And am I crazy or does he look 10 years younger?
Vivian: That's unbelievable. Is that brisket I smell?
Philip: [to the judge] Lovely family.
Judge Robertson: Thank you.
Philip: [covering the microphone] Who are they?
Judge Robertson: Rented.

Philip: I apologize for my nephew, Judge. And I hope this little incident didn't cause any undue embarrassment. I mean, the press is going to have a field day.
Judge Robertson: Well, I certainly hope so. This is just the beginning. You know, I was browsing through the police files and bingo, up pops your nephew's name. Parking tickets up the ying-yang. So I busted his bony butt. Pretty good, huh?
Philip: Excuse me?
Judge Robertson: Oh, wake up, knucklehead. You're in the big leagues now. I may be old, I may be senile and I haven't been able to find my car for the past half hour, but I can beat your butt in a political campaign any day. You're dead meat, Tiny.

Carlton: I always knew Will would be the downfall of this family. But no one ever listens to me.
Vivian: What, honey? I'm sorry, I wasn't listening.

Vivian: Are you all right, sweetheart?
Will: Yeah, I'm fine, Aunt Viv.
Vivian: Well, good, now I can break your legs.
Philip: Vivian, Vivian, I'll handle this. Now we have to make a statement for the press. So put on an apron, grab the cookie jar.
Vivian: Forget it. And I ate all the cookies before lunch.

Will: Jazz, I trusted you with my ride over the summer and you got $2,000 worth of parking tickets. And you didn't even tell me.
Jazz: You're right, I should have told you. Will, I got $2,000 worth of parking tickets.
Will: What do you plan to do about that, Jazz?
Jazz: I'll take care of it, man. I promise. Can I borrow $2,000?
Will: This is not a joke, man. I trusted you, Jazz. I trusted you, and you got me tossed into jail. Friends don't do that to each other, man. I mean, friends are supposed to be there for each other. Friends aren't supposed to set you up to take a fall. And most importantly, friends are supposed to be honest with each other. And you obviously don't fit that mold. So from this point on, you can consider our friendship over. You're no longer welcome in this house. And I'd appreciate it if you just got the hell out of my crib.
Jazz: Ain't you going to even bother to throw me out?
Will: You're not worth it, man.

Will: Hey, Carlton, man, how about we shoot down to The Wing King, man get a big bucket of ribs?
Carlton: Do I look like Jimmie Walker?

Vivian: Oh, my God, Philip, look at this.
Philip: What?
Vivian: It's all in the paper. They got a picture of me throwing a reporter in the pool.
Philip: Oh, what a wonderful way to start my campaign. My nephew gets arrested. My wife looks like... you look wonderful, sweetheart.
Will: I don't know. Actually, Aunt Viv, you got a, kind of a homicidal, sumo-wrestler thing going. [off her look] Oh, but you working it, girl.

Will: What are you doing here?
Jazz: I was out for my morning constitutional and I must have walked farther than I thought. But since I'm here, bean pie for all. You know, just my way of saying, you know.
Vivian: Oh, that's very nice, Jazz.
Philip: Thank you, Jazz. I guess you two want to be alone.
Vivian: I don't get it, Philip, why did he give us a bean pie?
Philip: What am I, Freud? Grab a fork, Vivian.

Jazz: Don't try to impress me with your fancy education. You're going to go off next year to some big old college and I'll be sitting here by the phone waiting for you to call.
Will: You're not making any sense, Jazz.
Jazz: You used to think that was cute.
Will: Wait a minute. You mean this whole thing is about me going off to college?
Jazz: Oh, comes the dawn. My mother told me you was no good. I knew I should have listened to her. See, I promised myself I wasn't going to cry.
Will: Look, come on, Jazz.
Jazz: Get your hands off of me. I'm not a faucet to be turned on and off at your whim. I have emotions.