Dad: He's like the baby duckling who grows up to be a tall majestic tree that flies away with the other geese, never to be seen again.

Dad:Ha! Loser! Tonight you sleep on the lawn with the other single-celled organisms!

Brak: Hey, are you guys fighting?
Mom: No, dear, your father's just behaving like an ass.

Dad: Get him out; he's a biohazard! He'll take us all with him!
Mom: Oh, now really --
Dad: Forget him, Mother, he's already dead!

Dad: Brak, it's time for a dip into your old dad's pool of fanciful wisdom. Sometimes in life you must do what you don't want to do. Like sacrificing your precious freedom to get married and raise a family, or riding a moped to work. Look at me. I never get to do what I want to do. But do I cry about it? No.
Mom: Dear --
Dad: Okay, yes. But not in front of anyone. The point is, occasionally you must dissect things with which you have recently fallen in love with.

Brak: I guess it's goodbye Brak the happy-go-lucky man about town, and hello Brak the heartless clam slayer!

Dad: Life is not about the second chances. It's about a little mouse and his voyage to an exciting new land. That, my friend, is what life is.
Brak: But dad, I'm a growing boy! I need fish!

Brak: Hey, you should have done your homework, too, Bub. One more F and you're going right back to Grandma Prison.
(flashback)
Grandma: Zorak, time to scrub my feet again!
Other Grandma: Scrub me, too, boy!
Zorak: (shudders) Ugh... I ain't goin' back there.

Zorak: So here's what we do... we go back to Friday...
Brak: And we make a kite out of squirrels and fly it to the moon!

Brak: Hey Zorak, can I ask you a question?
Zorak: Yeah, what?
Brak: Where're we gonna find enough squirrels to make a kite?
Zorak: Are you really that stupid?
Brak: Oh! I dare you to say that again, only this time say "Brak, I love you."

Brak: Hey, Zorak, he sounds just like you!
Zorak: Yeah, I was just noticing that.
Brak: And you have a beautiful man voice!
Zorak: What the hell is going on?

Zorak: Why don't you bite me?

Brak: Go ahead and sing something, Zorak. 'Course you won't be as good as me, but then... who is?

Brak: You gotta be kiddin' me! My potato song has won this contest every year! This is an outrage...
Carmine: Look, Zorak, he's gonna cry.
Zorak: Yeah, why doesn't he go cry to his mommy?
Brak: That's exactly what I intend to do!

Mom: Honey, maybe people just don't want their vegetables to sing.

Dad: I thought we agreed to stop encouraging him.

Brak: Oh, look who's here. Mr. Wins the talent show, deserts his best friend to be a famous singer, only to find that he's unhappy making people happy... (sobs) ... and not gettin' paid, so he quits the music business and comes back beggin' for my forgiveness, which I will happily give... (sobs) I love you, Zorak!

Zorak: (mouthing while Brak lip-synchs) Greetings. I have recently been told that I have a beautiful man voice.

Dad: No more of this! You need to get your feet off your head and your pants to your ears, and go help someone who has no feet! Because the footless animals cannot walk over here on their little non-footed areas and tell us how hungry they are, now can they?

Brak: Alright, I guess I'll get going, if going is what I need to get.

Brak: Hey, what's that over there?
Thundercleese: The Sword of Slaughter!
Brak: Oh boy, what's that over there?
Thundercleese: The Canon of Fear!
Brak: How 'bout that?
Thundercleese: Missiles of Unmentionable Terror!
Brak: What's that; is that a beach ball?
Thundercleese: No! It is a Battle Sphere of Doom!
Brak: What d'ya think that thing is?
Thundercleese: That's a light switch.
Brak: Uh huh.
Thundercleese: Of Total Devastation!
Brak: You don't say.

Dad: I like the spandex because it makes each behind muscle look like a glorious small television.

Zorak: Hey! Why are you all still alive!? Oh, that's right. It's only Tuesday.

Brak: But I love my arms! That's where my hands live!

Zorak: Welcome to the Painful Acres Motel, where our motto is... "Watch Your Freakin' Back!"
Brak: (singing) Danger! Danger! Watch your freakin' back!
Zorak: Can I help you... to die? Mwahahahahaha!
Mom: I need a room for the evening.
Brak: I'll put you in number one, because one stands for murder!