Will: Hey, Ash, guess what. Me and Lisa finally set the date. We're getting married in September.
Ashley: Oh, Will, that's great.
Will: Hey, listen, I even bought the ring too.
Ashley: Really? How many carats?
Will: Come on, Ash, it's not the size that counts.
Ashley: That small, huh?
Will: Well, I mean, I- I- I didn't get the ring I wanted to get, you know. I couldn't afford the real cubic zirconia. Hey, but check it out. Presentation is everything. Check it out. Yo, G. I had Geoffrey bake the ring inside of her favorite cookie.
Ashley: Aww.
Will: Nothing says loving like something from the oven.
Geoffrey: And Will Smith says it best.
Will: Hey, that looks great, G.
Philip: It certainly does. [eats cookie]
Will: Uncle Phil!

Will: [sped-up voices playing on TV] What y'all watching, a Rosie Perez movie?
Carlton: I wish. Hilary gave us a tape of her talk show and made us promise to watch.
Ashley: It's been on for three minutes, and we're almost done.
[As Carlton and Ashley continue playing the sped-up video, Will acts it out. Lisa walks up behind him]
Will: Oh. Uh... It's nothing, babe. It's that thong underwear you bought me for Christmas.

Philip: Hi, kids.
Lisa: Hey, Mr. Banks. Do you wanna stay and join us for dinner?
Philip: Uh, no, thank you, Lisa. As lovely as that stinks... Uh, uh, smells. I wouldn't wanna interrupt.

Will: Hey, look, Uncle Phil, thanks a lot, man, but we both go to school and we work. We really don't have time for that.
Philip: Oh, well, that's a shame. Because I was gonna pay for your honeymoon anywhere in the world you wanted to go.
[As Will reaches to grab the note from Uncle Phil, he accidentally knocks Lisa over on the couch]
Will: Hey, baby, what's Swahili for "ching-ching"?

Dr. Whitehorn: Uh, we'll come back to that. Look, let's take another question. Oh, where will you be living?
Will: Oh, that's an easy one. Right, baby?
Lisa: Yes. Cleveland.
Will: Philly.
Dr. Whitehorn: Oh, this ought to be good.

Philip: Lisa, hi. Where's Will?
Lisa: Will who?
Philip: Will, was there a problem in therapy?
Will: Man, we are this close to breaking up. Boy, that stuff doesn't work at all.

Will: Oh, don't hurt me!
Lisa: What is your problem?
Will: Me? [panting] Baby, just tell me one thing: Did you put something on or did you take something off?
Lisa: Trust me, Will, the next time I decide to take something off you will be too old and blind to care.

Lisa: You have some nerve. So you expect me to be a gourmet chef, raise eight kids and look beautiful 24 hours a day?
Will: Too much?
Lisa: And what exactly are you gonna be doing?
Will: [sighs] I'm gonna be supporting y'all.
Lisa: Oh, on what? That one-figure salary that you pull down at the Peacock?
Will: Oh, no, you did not. Oh, no... You know what? I could yell, I could scream. I could even call you some names. But you know what? One of us has to be the mature one. And it ain't gonna be me, Aunt Jemima!

Dr. Whitehorn: Hey, hey, hey. Now, none of that. If you can't verbalize your aggressions then here, try a bataka.
George Jefferson: Oh.
Louise Jefferson: And this is for Mama.
George Jefferson: Hey!
Louise Jefferson: And this is for calling me Weezy when you know I'm sensitive about my asthma.
George Jefferson: Try this on your asthma.
Dr. Whitehorn: Hey, hey, hey, time out! Time out now! Stop it! Look it, why don't we all just take a five-minute break, okay?

Will: Hey, what's up, Uncle Phil?
Philip: What in the world happened?
Will: Man, we got into a huge fight.
Philip: A fistfight?
Will: No, we used bats.
Philip: On each other?
Will: Oh, no, no. We beat up this old couple. Yeah, but they had it coming, right, baby?
Lisa: Yeah, baby.
Will: That's what I'm saying.
Philip: I can't believe what I'm hearing. I mean, that's terrible.
Will: Oh, no, no, no. This was at therapy, Uncle Phil.