Charlie: [After finding Alan in the shower with Rose and Alan comes out] Explain it to me Alan, help me understand.
Alan: Oh, you mean Rose?
Charlie: No, I mean the internal combustion engine...Yes I mean Rose!

Charlie: [drunk] Ah, cars. Where would we be without cars? And how would we get there? (drops onion) Run, Run, You're Free!

Charlie: [Filling out Jake's hospital form] Last name: Harper. First Name: Jake...ob?
Jake: Yeah.
Charlie: Jacob. Middle name...
Jake: Don't you know?
Charlie: Of course I know. I wanna see if you know,you hit your head dude.
Jake: David.
Charlie: I knew that. Jacob David, wow, they really went old testament on you didn't they. Allergies?
Jake: What? I dunno.
Charlie: Do you eat something that makes you sick?
Jake: I ate a worm once.
Charlie: No allergies. Have you ever had the following? Measles?
Jake: I dunno.
Charlie: Mumps?
Jake: I dunno.
Charlie: Chicken pox?
Jake: Is that the one with the spots?
Charlie: Yeah.
Jake: I dunno.
Charlie: Family History? Well your grandmother's always been a pain in the ass.

Charlie: [on the phone with Alan who is trying to ditch his drunk blind date]: Viagra and a bad ticker. Mom loses more boyfriends that way.
Charlie: Alan, Alan, calm down, calm down! Listen to me. Here's what you do. Take her to a crowded club, pin a warning note on her back as a courtesy to the next guy, and run like hell!

Charlie: [plays a little bit then burps as kids laugh] That one's not on the CD!

Charlie: [Reading Jake's test answers] Abraham Lincoln signed the Declaration of Independence in....pen. For this you got an A?
Jake: Yeah, everybody did. I love you Uncle Charlie [Runs to his room]
Alan: I think you know what you have to do.
Charlie: Um... break up with Miss Pasternak, right?
Alan: Hell, no, he's [Jake] getting A's. He hasn't gotten an A since nap time in kindergarten.
Charlie: But he's not learning anything!
Alan: Charlie, get your priorities straight; I'm trying to get him into a decent middle school! After he's accepted, he can learn that Sacajawea wasn't... [reading Jake's test answer]: "a bag full of Jawea".

Charlie: [referring to Alan's new piercing] You do know that's the gay ear?
Alan: What?
Charlie: Left ear says "I'm a hipster from the disco era." Right ear says "Let's disco!!"

Charlie: [To Jake because he and Alan are going out] Don't burn the house down and if you do, don't be here when I get back.

Charlie: [Who is trying to convince Alan to go on a double date with him even though he is sick] Please, please go with me. Look, she's great, her name is Dezeray.
Alan: I don't care what her name is!
Charlie: What do you mean? That's like desire but with yay in it!

Charlie: A blind date? Forget it, Charlie Harper does not go on blind dates.
Alan: He doesn't?
Charlie: No, he doesn't.
Alan: Can't we ask him?
Charlie: Don't bother. I know what he'll say.
Alan: OK, but does he have to say it in the third person?

Charlie: A woman's much more relaxed and comfortable in her own surroundings. Plus, the minute she falls asleep, I can hit the bricks.
Alan: That's lovely. It's a shame you don't work for Hallmark.
Charlie: Yeah, I'll bet those guys get laid like crazy.

Charlie: Again, I'm sorry. Mea culpa. Now if you'll excuse me, mea going upstairs for a culpa hours.

Charlie: Alan, I have always conducted my sex life according to three simple principles. One: If at all possible, ladies first. Two: It's easier to be forgiven than ask permission. And third and most important: the ten seconds it takes to put on a condom beats the hell out of the ten years you have to pretend to like soccer.
Alan: Except when they don't work.
Charlie: Stupid tiny disclaimer on the side of the box. They should put it in big letters right on the reservoir tip. "Do you feel lucky, dumbass?"

Charlie: Alan, there comes a time in every man's life when he has to make a choice; does he want to be loved, or does he want to get laid. Fourteen years ago you made the wrong choice. You got married, and you wound up with neither. But now, now fate has given you another chance. Welcome it. Embrace it. Grab its pert little ass.
Alan: What am I supposed to do, walk into my son's birthday and say, "Hey everybody, look at this gorgeous twenty-two year old woman I'm having sex with."
Charlie: Oh, don't be silly. You don't want to rub their faces in it! You just want them to know where yours has been. Oh, yeah, one more thing.
Alan: Yeah?
Charlie: "Booty! Booty!"

Charlie: Alan, where'd the money come from?
Alan: I found it.
Charlie: Alan...
Alan: Mom.
Charlie: You traded your soul for a Porsch?
Alan: I didn't trade my soul, and it's Porsche.