Adam: [talking to his stuffed parrot] Polly want a cracker?
Eric: Polly want an autopsy!

Alan: Morgan, there is always going to be someone better than you, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try. Ask Alexandra. What did she do when there were better painters than her?
Alexandra: (to Amy) I'm not supposed to lie. What do I do?

Alan: My father spent 40 years with a broom in his hand. I wish he could see all that I have now. Why are you afraid of being average?
Cory: I-I-I'm not ashamed.
Alan: Touch it. Touch it. Get some dirt on your hands. Try to see what average looked like from here. To me, average was a dream. That's why my father worked his butt off, so maybe his son could have something more. And I learned from him, Cory. And I respected him because he did the best that he could. And I was proud of him. And he would have been proud of me, too. I don't know. Maybe if my son thinks average is nothing, then I've done my job. But I'm sorry that you're not proud. Of him, me and of yourself.

Amy: [to Cory] The doctor thought it'd be a good idea if you went in to say hi to your brother, too.
Cory: Yeah, sure. But, uh... [to Shawn and Topanga] I'd like you guys to come. [Shawn nods, the three start toward the NICU. A nurse stops Shawn]
Nurse: Oh, I'm sorry, family only.
Alan: [pats Shawn's shoulder] Uh, he is family.

Amy: This better be good.
Alan: I don't even want to hear about it. They were incredibly rude, and I'm going to punish them right now.
Cory: You can't punish us, we're in college.
Alan: Oh, yeah? How about I hit you so hard you're back in high school?

Amy: You laughed at me when I tried on the orange dress.
Eric: You looked like the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.

Chet: [to Rachel] I've been to three county fairs, two pig-stickin's and a goat rope, but I ain't never seen nothin' like you.

Cory: [reading from Shawn's poem]
"On this brink of everything I know,
I can gain an eyeful of the lost Atlantis
in the human soul
and the breath that fills my lungs
with the air between two stars."

Cory: Are you saying we don't have extraordinary gifts, Mr. Feeny?
Feeny: No, of course not, Mr. Matthews. You also have extraordinary gifts.
Cory: Like what?
Feeny: You have your health. Good for you.

Cory: I call this next poem "Feeny."
"Mr. Feeny is very smart
On many subjects, including art.
And yet he can't help me with my frustration --
COME ON, TOPANGA!"

Cory: I don't care what Gambling Dan thinks. Why does he call me The Major?
Shawn: It stands for Major Wuss. He says if there was a Whipped magazine, you'd be the centerfold.
Cory: Okay, first of all, there is a Whipped magazine. I didn't subscribe. Somehow they found me.

Cory: I had a dream last night. And we got married, and moved into the Poor House! And do you know how I knew it was the Poor House? Because there was a sign that said "The Poor House"!
Season 7

Cory: I hold in my hands the pinnacle of God's creation. Think fast! [tosses a brain at Shawn; it hits his chest and falls to the floor]
Shawn: [bends down to pick it up and comes up with two brain halves] You want personality or motor skills?

Cory: What, are you breaking up with me in a restaurant? In a public place, so I won't make a scene? You think I won't make a scene?
Shawn: I know you'll make a scene.

Cory: You were in my dream, Feeny. And you gave me advice that sucked!
Feeny: I am not responsible for Dream Feeny!