Al: [narrating] So I ran. You would too if you had a price on your head and a bad burrito in your belly.

Al: Dad had one great dream, a dream that had been handed down from generation to generation of male Bundys: to build their own room and live separately from their wives. Sadly, they all failed.

Al: Hey Bud, Mom is sick. Get her an aspirin.
Bud: I am bushed.
Al: No pressure. Do it tomorrow.

Al: Hey Steve, too bad Alfalfa is dead or else he could play you in the movie of your life.

Al: How long was I out?
Kelly: Six hours.
Al: Why didn't you call 911?
Kelly: I couldn't remember the number.

Al: I saw those numbers just as plain as I see Bea Arthur's face on that TV.
Jefferson: That's Fidel Castro.

Al: I'd like to talk to you today about women. I don't like 'em. I mean, you folks are English, but even you can't like women. I mean, you're sitting home, watching sports, and that's the exact time that they pick to plant their ever widening, what you call bums next to you, and ask "Remember that restaurant we went to 18 years ago. Did you think that waitress was pretty?" Then you tell them to shut up, and they get mad. Now, I'm not proposing a solution, ‘cause I gotta go soon, I see my wife looking, but I'd just like to say "I don't like 'em." Now could I get a "Whoa, women. I DON'T LIKE 'EM?"
Crowd: Whoa, women. I DON'T LIKE 'EM.
Al: Oh, by the way, am I alone in hating the French.
Crowd: No!
Al: I thought not.

Al: Jefferson, do you have 79 cents?
Jefferson: Why? You're paying off the house?

Al: Kids, just one quick question and that's it. Is your mother...
Bud: Repulsed by you?
Kelly: Disappointed financially and sexually by you?
Al: No. I don't care about that, you dolts. Is she pregnant? And Marcy?
Kelly: Do you think he's crazy?
Bud: He must be. He didn't ask about you.

Al: Let me tell you something, I served my country. I played high school football. Four touchdowns in one game, yet I'm not exempt of state and federal taxes. Is this how you treat us heroes? No, you flash that badge to some registered voter. We're Bundys, we hate cops!

Al: Look, I do not think I want to buy a time share.
Salesman: I guess I have to give up...but not before I play my trump card! Salesman turns on radio, which plays Kookie, Kookie. Edd Byrnes enters, which excites Peg Say hello to Edd "Kookie" Byrnes, star of 77 Sunset Strip! Now Edd, why did you come to Hurricane Hole?
Edd Byrnes: Because you gave me one for free, Stan.
Salesman{annoyed}: Well Kookie, guess you were a good actor but a lousy pitchman! to Peg & Al Look, all it is are easy payments of $6 a month.
Peg: Sir, please. My husband is on sabbatical from his job selling shoes and we just want to make love.
Salesman: Shoe salesman?! In that case I know you cannot afford $6 timeshare payments. I want you people off the premises by 5!
Salesman and Edd Byrnes leave, but Edd has helped himself to Al's stash of girlie magazines
Peg: Well, that still gives us plenty of time.
Peg makes out with a reluctant Al
Al: Oh no! I have no girlie magazines! Kookie, Kookie, give me back my Big 'Uns!

Al: That's what's wrong with this country, Peg: every time something tears up, we call someone to fix it. Not like Grandpa Bundy. There was a fixin' man.
Bud: You mean Grandpa Hook?
Al: Well, circular saws were new then. But he carved his own hook, he didn't call anybody!
Peg: It would have been hard for him to hold the phone with the one finger he had left on his other hand.
Al: One finger is all a real American needs, Peg.

Al: Well, according to my research, the cost of raising a baby from birth to college is approximately seven hundred and eighty thousand dollars. Thanks to my actually selling a shoe last week, I'm proud to say we're now just short seven hundred eighty thousand dollars. Thank you.

Al: What're you in for?
Old Man: Stole an ashtray from the Ritz. You?
Al: Towel from the Suvoy. Whatta they feed ya in here?
Old Man: Bread and water.
Al:...Then it's truly the best vacation I ever had!
Season 7

Al: Where the music stinks and they water the drinks -- the nudie bar. Where the girlies dance in their underpants -- the nudie bar. Where you see their butt, but their trap stays shut -- the nudie bar.