Rev. Lovejoy: No Homer, God didn't burn your house down, but he was working in the hearts of your friends be they Christian, Jew, or... miscellaneous.
Apu: Hindu. There are seven hundred million of us.
Rev. Lovejoy: Aww, that's super.
Reverend Lovejoy: Homer, I'd like you to remember Matthew 7:26. "The foolish man who built his house upon the sand."
Homer: [pointing a finger] And you remember
Homer: Matthew... 21:17.
Reverend Lovejoy: [confused] "And he left them and went out of the city, into Bethany, and he lodged there?"
Homer: Yeah. Think about it.
Bart: Hey, where's Homer?
Marge: Your father is... resting.
Bart: "Resting" hung over? "Resting" got fired? Help me out here.
Lisa Simpson: [In church] Our Father, Who art in Heaven...
Bart: Lisa, this is neither the time nor the place!
Homer Simpson: I'm not a bad guy! I work hard, and I love my kids. So why should I spend half my Sunday hearing about how I'm going to hell?
God: Now if you'll excuse me, I have to appear on a tortilla in Mexico.
Homer: [dozing while the fire spreads] Marge, turn down the heat?
[pause, nothing happens]
Homer: That's better!
Homer: [In bed] Ah. I'm just a big, toasty cinnamon bun. I never want to leave this bed. Uh oh. Gotta take a whiz. Think, man, think. Think, think, think! I better get up.
[Homer is in the bathroom, urinating]
Homer: I'm whizzing with the door open and I love it!
[Homer is in the shower]
Homer: [singing] Why, oh, why! Delight!
[washes his face]
Homer: [He turns on the radio in the shower]
KBBL DJ #1: It's eleven KBBL degrees below zero. I hope you're someplace warm.
Homer: You bet your sweet...
Homer: ... ass!
Marge: I have a responsibility to raise these children right and, unless you change, I'll have to tell them their father is... well, wicked.
Homer: [to Lisa and Bart] Kids, let me tell you about another so-called wicked guy. He had long hair, and some wild ideas, and he didn't always do what other people thought was right. And that man's name was...
Homer: I forget. But the point is...
Homer: I forget that, too.
Homer: Marge, you know who I'm talking about! He used to drive that blue car.
[Homer pooh-poohs churchgoing]
Marge: Don't make me choose between my man and my God, because you just can't win.
Homer: There you go again, always taking someone else's side. Flanders, the water department, God...
Homer: [watching "The Three Stooges" on TV] Moe is their leader.
Homer: Lord, I have to ask you something: What's the meaning of life?
God: Oh Homer, I can't tell you that! You'll find out when you die.
Homer: But I can't wait that long!
God: You can't wait six months?
Marge: Get up, Homer. It's time for church.
Homer: I don't want to go.
Marge: It's church. You have to go.
Homer: Too cold out!
[We see outside the window. It is a blizzard. A polar bear is digging through the garbage. He pulls out a fish and leaves]
Marge: I'm tired of having this argument every Sunday! Get dressed!
[She throws Homer's pants on Homer]
Homer: Oh! Stupid, itchy church pants!
[Homer is downstairs, messing with his pants]
Homer: "One size fits all," my butt!
Marge: Come on! We're going to be late!
[Homer pulls up his pants. They rip]
Homer: Forget it. I'm not going.
[Homer walks upstairs, revealing his posterior]
Homer: What's the big deal about going to some building every Sunday?... and what if we've picked the wrong religion? Every week we're just making god madder and madder.
Marge: Homer, the Lord only asks for an hour a week.
Homer: Well in that case, He should've made the week an hour longer. Lousy God.
[doorbell rings; Homer answers the door to Krusty]
Krusty the Clown: Hello, I'm collecting for the Brotherhood of Jewish Clowns. Last year, tornadoes claimed the lives of seventy-five Jewish clowns. The worst incident was outside our convention in Lubbock, Texas.
Krusty the Clown: There were floppy shoes and rainbow wigs everywhere!
Krusty the Clown: It was terrible...!
Homer: Wait a minute. Is this a religious thing?
Krusty the Clown: A religious clown thing, yes.
Krusty the Clown: Well, bless you anyw...
[Homer shuts the door on him]
Homer: [phones work from Moe's bar] Hello work. I won't be in tomorrow. Religious holiday. The holiday of...
[sees a sign on the wall]
Homer: maximum occupancy.
Moe Syzlack.: Pretty slick.
Homer: You should join my religion Moe. It's great. No Heaven. No Hell.
Moe Syzlack.: Sorry Homer.
[lifts his hands which are covered in band-aids and bites]
Moe Syzlack.: I was born a snake-handler, and I'll die a snake-handler.
Homer: I'm sorry. I can't come in today. Religious holiday. The feast of... Maximum Occupancy.
[on Sunday, the church doors are frozen shut by the blizzard outside; as the congregation waits, Willie applies a blowtorch]
Reverend Lovejoy: How's it going, Willie?
Groundskeeper Willie: Miracles are your department, Reverend!
[on Sunday, the heat in the church has broken down during a blizzard outside]
Reverend Lovejoy: [reading] "... and he was cast into the fiery cauldron of Hell! The searing heat, the scalding rivers of molten sulfur...!"
[the congregation, eyes closed, smile blissfully]
Bart: Ahh... I'm there.