It is a toss up between these.
Mr. Burns: OK, Spielbergo, I want you to do for me what Spielberg did for Oskar Schindler.
Sr. Spielbergo: Schindler es muy bueno, Senor Burns es el diablo.
Mr. Burns: Pish posh! Listen, Spielbergo, Schindler and I are like peas in a pod! We're both factory owners, we both made shells for the Nazis, but mine worked, damn it!
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Grampa Simpson: We can't bust heads like we used to. But we have our ways. One trick is to tell stories that don't go anywhere. Like the time I caught the ferry to Shelbyville. I needed a new heel for m'shoe. So I decided to go to Morganville, which is what they called Shelbyville in those days. So I tied an onion to my belt, which was the style at the time. Now, to take the ferry cost a nickel, and in those days, nickels had pictures of bumblebees on 'em. "Gimme five bees for a quarter," you'd say. Now where were we... oh yeah. The important thing was that I had an onion on my belt, which was the style at the time. I didn't have any white onions, because of the war. The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones...
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Mr. Burns: What was I laughing at again? Oh yes, that crippled Irishman.