TV: Hey you! Yeah, you! Come on down to Big Roy's Used Cars and Trucks! We've got what you want, at a price you can afford!
Millie: There has to be a false advertising lawsuit here somewhere. My allowance is two dollars a week, and what I really want is either world peace or a twenty pound "Snickers" bar.
Announcer: And he's tackled on the five yard line with just ten seconds left in the half! Boy, I tell ya, Ed, now they're really gonna play football!
Millie: What were they playing before? Cribbage?
Ozy: Beats me. To me it always looks like they're walking funny and bumping into each other.
I don't care if it stunts my growth. I... Need... Coffee.
— Millie, Here.
Ozy: Strike three!
Millie: Pitch something bigger!
Ozy: That was a watermelon.
You know you're serene when you don't care that there's a bug on your face.
Millie: I figure the first step in a presidential campaign is to take some polls. You know, see what's on the public's mind.
Ozy: Ask away.
Millie: Question one: How much Jell-O do you think it would take to completely fill The White House?
Millie: I'll just put you down as a 5% margin of error, okay?
Ozy: I think your whole campaign is a margin of error.
Timulty: You look sad. Here, have a piece of blue string.
Ozy: The interesting part is, I actually do feel better.
Millie: Ozy, how do you think the brain works?
Felicia: Heyyyyy Millie... Is that your boyyyyyfriend? Are you gonna marry him? Oooooooooooo! Hahahahahahahaha!
Ozy: Sometimes it doesn't.
Millie: Ozy! Ozy! You won't believe what I just saw! I didn't get a good look... but it was big and scary and menacing and I felt a chill as it moved by! And I saw it go right towards your house!!
Ozy: You mean my dad?
Millie: Ha ha. I get stuck in the classroom sink once and everybody stops taking me seriously.
Ms. Mudd: Millie, your teacher sent a note home suggesting that children come along to the first PTA meeting.
Millie: I know. I' coming along to protect you.
Ms. Mudd: To protect me.
Millie: I have reason to suspect Ozy's dad is going to try to eat you.
Ms. Mudd: This is going to be one of those evenings, isn't it, kiddo?
Millie: Do you think this squirtgun is big enough?
Sign: haircutz $5
Ozy: Oh, come on now... Who on Earth would be dumb enough to let you cut their hair?
Millie: *Evil Grin*
Millie: Oh, hush. I paid you five bucks, didn't I?
Millie Presents Ways to Get Out of Doing Work #1: If your excuse is incoherent enough, people won't ask any questions.
Mr. Larnblatt, I promise I would have practiced, but I really had to reconfigure the most recent styrofoam grapefruit.
Llewellyn: How'd you like to participate in the ancient, secret dragon ritual of "Parcheesi"?
Millie: I've played parcheesi. It's not such a big secret.
Llewellyn: It is when it's "house rules" Parcheesi. [gets out helmet and pads] Here, you might want to put these on.
Millie: I wonder why they call it "impeachment".
Ozy: Do I want to know what you mean?
Millie: I just mean, why peaches? Why not blueberries? Or apples? Or pears?
Millie: Don't make me dump this orange juice on your head.
Millie Presents Ways to Get Out of Doing Work #2: Invent injuries that are too obscure to refute.
Ms. Splintmasn, as much as I'd love to play full-contact volleyball, I need to be excused. I have interzorzmodic elbow, knee and head counterfrabulations.
There's a lesson here somewhere, and in the interest of science I'm determined not to learn it.
You know, it takes real skill to make democracy look like such a stupid idea.
Sometimes it seems like grownups are trying to tell me that being good is no substitute for being bad with style.
Ozy: I'm trying to decide if I should consider that reassuring or scary.
Millie: Does it have to be one or the other?
Ozy: Actually, I lead a very active inner life.
Millie: Then maybe this strip should be taking place in your spleen.
Ozy: You got another telemarketer to hang up on you?
Llewellyn: Son, add this to the list of things that civilty can get you.
Millie: Hide and seek?
Ozy: Sure. Where?
Millie: How about your house?
Ozy: Okay, sure... But this time, remember, the moat is off limits.
Millie: Oh yeah, like I have burning desire to get covered in algae again.
Ozy: Dad, have you seen Millie?
Llewellyn: I think I saw her hiding between the couch cushions. You don't suppose she's unprepared for the... idiosyncrasies of our furniture, do you?
Ozy: More than likely. I've seen her couch. It mostly contains lint.
Llewellyn: Well, lint, inter-dimensional vortex... same general ballpark.
Ozy: You do realize this is why I've started tuning you out a lot of the time.
Millie: I had a good time at Ozy's house today.
Ms. Mudd: Oh? That's good.
Millie: Ozy's dad's couch has a gateway to some other universe in it. I wandered in and discovered that they have checkerboard buildings and grownups take orders from kids, and I met a pirate captain my age who took me in the "S.S. Banana" to the store to buy gum.
Ms. Mudd: *Stare*
School Secretary: [To Principal] Ms. Mudd is on the phone. She wants us to check the chemical content of the school water supply again.
It's great to know cool kids don't have a monopoly on deluded hedonism.
Last week, the birth of a baby in Sarajevo brought the human population of Earth to six billion. If you're "one in a million", there are now six thousand of you.
Some days I get the feeling that my role in life's rich pageant was originally written for Curly Howard.
Millie: Grunge is not dead!
Ozy: ...It just smells that way.
Um, Ozy? ...Your poker face is fine, but you really need to work on your poker butt.
Someone who's truly secure in their beliefs shouldn't feel threatened by dissent.
You managed to get sent to the school psychiatrist before me?? I feel like such a failure!
—Millie, to Ozy, here.
Dr. Wahnsinnig: Say, isn't there a school rule that mandates the wearing of pants?
Ozy: I'd be lying if I said I was popular. [...] I mostly just regret my place in the playground social order when I'm getting stuffed in trash cans by healthy, well-adjusted, all-American young men.
Dr. Wahnsinnig: On behalf of the American elementary school establishment: ouch.
You Are Unique!
Always be yourself!
Ms. Mudd: So that's your school uniform.
Ms. Mudd: Goodness. Don't you look... Um... [Beat] I can't lie. You look like a dweeb.
Millie: You can't? What did you do, sleep through law school?
Millie: Oh my gosh! I'm a criminal! I just read that copying CDs onto cassettes is a crime! I'm a repeat offender! I could spend the rest of my life up the river! Why are you looking at me like that?
Ozy: Like what?
Millie: Like I just morphed into a giant booger.
Ozy: Just promise me you haven't been cutting tags off matresses.
Belgium has nothing on you in the waffle department.
— Dr. Wahnsinnig, to Principal Beau Vine, here.
Ozy: Do you suppose there's a lesson in all this?
Millie: That maturity and wisdom are in the same category of adult fabrications as Santa Claus?
Ozy: I thought we already knew that.
Millie: See? It doesn't have to come down.
Ozy: It's probably a good thing for science that Isaac Newton never threw Jell-O at the ceiling.
Yeah, well, go stick an eggplant in your nose! [Beat] Dang it, why is it always the middle of the night when you finally think of the perfect witty retort?
It wasn't me! It was my muse!
Locke: What are those kids doing?
Ozy: Playing "Football". They toss around a ball that isn't actually round, and then jump on each other.
Locke: Oh. So is it, like, the school's chain gang for arsonists?
Ozy: More like a brain leper colony.
Ozy: Just don't do anything Millie wouldn't do.
Locke: Okay, that should be easy enough. Listen up, everybody! We're going to consolidate our pirate booty, and then pillage the principal's office!
Locke: Coming along on the big raid, Ozy?
Ozy: No, I think I'll hang back and watch.
Locke: You sure? Glory awaits!
Ozy: Maybe so, but it violates an axiom I try to live by.
Locke: What axiom?
Ozy: "Never do anything phenomenally stupid."
Millie: ...So, in order to escape the anxiety of taking a test, I'm going to go command some pirates for a day.
Llwellyn: It has a certain... internal logic.
Llwellyn: Though it is somewhat reminiscent of the time I tried to get out of a coffee date by booking a ride on the Hindenburg.
Why is it that I only ever learn moral lessons with zero relevance to absolutely anything?
Every time I think I've learned the least useful lesson in the world, life somehow manages to top itself.
Ms. Mudd: Look at this. I mean, look at this. Nobody in the world seems to know how to use apostrophes anymore. Correct English seems to have become entirely optional. Sloppy language is a symptom and a cause of sloppy thinking. Sometimes I fear for the intellectual future of out culture.
Millie: Yeah, I'm sure the starving kids in Somalia are losing tons of sleep.
Ms. Mudd: My attempt to get you to eat your peas by instilling global perspective is going to haunt me forever, isn't it?
Millie: Felicia asked my advice on something today.
Ozy: I assume you're having someone analyze the chemical make-up of the cafeteria food.
Stephan: What do you think?
Ozy: I think love is a brutal feifdom we enter at our own peril, well knowing the cost but also the reward. It's an inward, unguided quest, an odyssey of uncertain direction, but leading into the gaping maw of fate.
Ozy: I'm being incoherent, aren't I?
Ozy: Dad, love is complicated, isn't it?
Llewellyn: Why, son, I'm surprised to hear you spak of love.
Ozy: It's not me, it's a friend of mine.
Llewellyn: Of course, of course... still, it reminds me of a helpful anecdote.
Llewellyn: The year was... let's see, they all tend to blend together. I think it may have had a "2" in it.
Ozy: [Looking at book] "The Big Book of Ancient, Semi-Coherent Wisdom".
Llewellyn: The "bloopers of Lao-Tzu" section alone is worth the cover price.
I'm wearing the last of the "Kool-Aid".
— Timulty, here.
Ozy: [Reading] "Those who say don't know. Those who know don't say".
Stephan: Says the large book of quotations.
Millie: I think the ancient philosophers were kind of like my mom that way.
This is why I'll never abuse drugs. If you know Avery, it's redundant.
Isolde: The point of Zen is to confuse the intelect into seeing the futility of concrete ideas.
Ozy: Hm... I thought that was the point of George W. Bush.
Isolde: Ah, George... We all envy his advanced state of not-knowing.