Peter: Children under four shouldn't smoke!

Peter: Mr. Weed, I can't come to work today. I was in a terrible plane crash, my entire family was killed and I am a vegetable... I'll see you tomorrow.

Brian: Oh, please, Peter, your excuses are lamer than FDR's legs.
Everyone else: [Gasp]
Brian: Too soon?

Chris: Dad, what's the blow hole for?
Peter: I'll tell you what it's not for son, and when I do, you'll understand why I can never go back to Sea World.

Chris: I'm so hungry, I could ride a horse... I don't get it.

Toy Employee: [about Kenneth] Well, that badass just gave half his paycheck to orphans. Orphans with diseases!!!

Gang Member: It's 3:00. Where the hell is Louie?
Gang Member 2: Well, you tell me. Louie left his house at 2:15 and has to travel a distance of 6.2 miles at a rate of 5 miles per hour. What time will Louie arrive?
Gang Member: Depends if he stops to see his ho.
Gang Member 2: That's what we call a variable!

Peter: I'm tired of Mr. Weed treating me like a common doormat. I want him to treat me like one of those deluxe one from Pottery Barn with the fancy straw.

Executive: Trust me, Peter. The last thing we want is to get kids to start smoking.
Peter: What about that graph on the wall that says, "The first thing we want is to get kids to start smoking"?
Executive: That? Oh, that's just something my son made me in art class.
Peter: Then what about that poster that says, "The graph was not made in art class. We really do want kids to start smoking"?

[Peter as a swim coach]
Peter: Great workout, Bobby.
Bobby: Up yours, sack breath!
Peter: That's "Mr. Griffin."

Executive: I don't understand it. We've tried everything to get through to these politicians. Harvard lawyers, lobbyists, wisecracking leprechauns.
Leprechaun: Excuse me, do you have a dollar? I'm a little short.

Peter: Lois, this is the best job I ever had! Hey, since I became president, profits have been higher than Alyssa Milano.
[cut to Alyssa Milano watching "Family Guy"]
Alyssa Milano: What kind of cheap shot...Joel!
Joel: I'm suing, I'm suing. I'm on it.

Peter: Well, that's my mama.

Brian: Stop staring at my tail!

Stewie: Baby needs to suck ash. Baby needs to suck ash. Not ass, you pervert. Save it for the interns.

Worker: Oh, you don't need to park here, Mr. Griffin. You have an executive space now!
[There is a hole in the parking lot's inner wall with a banner at the end that says "RESERVED FOR PETER GRIFFIN"]
Peter: But, that looks exactly like my old space.
Worker:Yeah, but this one comes with your very own company suck-up.
[There is a man with a green suit and pants and brown hair smiling next to Peter's parking space. Peter begins to walk away with the suck-up.]
Suck-Up: Morning, Mr. Griffin! Nice day!
Peter: Eh, it's a little cloudy.
Suck-Up: It's absolutely cloudy! So, good news about the Yankees-
Peter: I hate the Yankees.
Suck-Up:Pack of cheaters, that's what they are! I love your tie!
Peter: I hate this tie.
Suck-Up: It's awful. Its gaudy, it's gotta go!
Peter: [Stops walking]...and I hate myself.
Suck-Up: I hate you too, you make me sick, you fat sack of crap!
Peter: But, I'm the President.
Suck-Up: The best there is!
Peter: But you just said you hated me.
Suck-Up:[Starts to shake] But...Not you the...President...The...You. Who. who love.. Hate...[Whirs, shakes violently] ...Yankees...Clouds...[Head explodes, short circuits]
Worker 2: I...I'll have that fixed for you by tomorrow, sir.

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