Season One

Jerry: Well, I’m intervening.
Beth: Intervening with puberty? You’ll turn him into Ralph Finnes in Red Dragon. He is at that age, let’s just be proud of him.
Summer: Jesus, did I really set the bar that low?
Morty: Rick, could you come with me please? Quickly!
Beth: OK, now if we here squeaking we intervene.

Rick: Do not let that thing out of your sight. It looks harmless now, but it could grow into something dangerous.
Jerry: Like the Insane Clown Posse.
Rick: Yeah, good one, Jerry. 2003 called, it wants its easy target back.

Morty: What do I do if it cries?
Beth: Then you put it down and let it cry itself out.
Jerry: Yeah, right. We tried that technique on Summer and she is gonna end up stripping. Isn’t she? Yes she is. She is gonna strip for attention because she was denied it.
Beth: Stop filling it with your own insecurity. You’re gonna turn it into Mort-uh-mm-more more more of you.

Summer: And if you think my top is cute, you cannot execute.

Morty Jr: I hate video games!
Morty: You take that back!

Rick: Oh, great. Who invited Abradolph Lincoler?
Summer: I thought everyone was welcome.
Rick: It’s not the same, Summer. Lincoler is a crazed maniac, just a misguided effort of mine to create morally neutral superleader by combining the DNA of Adolf Hitler and Abraham Lincoln. Turns out it *burps* just adds up to a lame, weird loser.
Abradolph Lincoler: Rick, you brought me into this world. A suffering abomination, tortured by the duality of its being. But I shall finally know peace when I watch the life drain from your wretched body!
Brad: Whoa! What’s up, man?
Abradolph Lincoler: I have no quarrel with you, boy.
Brad: “Boy”? What’s that supposed to mean?
Abradolph Lincoler: It’s just-l-look, I-I don’t know how you thought I meant it, but..
Rick: Don’t look at me, dude.
Abradolph Lincoler: Look, I’m half-Abraham Lincoln, so-
Brad: So I should get on my knees and kiss your ass?!
Abradolph Lincoler: Well, no, but…uhh…You know?
Brad: What do I know? That the Third Reich will reign for a thousand years?

Rick: Yo! What up my Glip Glops?!

Beth: I can’t help but feel a little guilty. I didn’t peg Lucy for a rapist.
Jerry: What does a rapist look like exactly, Beth? Is it a Slavic man wearing a denim jacket with a patchy beard and the scent of cheap champagne wafting over it’s blister-pocked lips?
Beth: What?

Tammy: I like your feathers.
Birdperson: They are designed to attract the attention of the female.
Tammy: It’s working.
Birdperson: Tammy, I should let you know I just got out of a highly intense soul bond with my previous spirit mate.
Tammy: I’m not looking to get into a soul bond. I’m just looking for…
Birdperson: I believe Birdperson can arrange that.

Birdperson: Morty, do you know what “wubba lubba dub dub” means?
Morty: Uh, that’s just Rick’s stupid nonsense catchphrase.
Birdperson: It’s not nonsense at all. In my people’s tongue it means, “I am in great pain, please help me.”
Morty: Well, I got news for you. He’s saying it ironically.
Birdperson: No, Morty, your Grandfather is indeed in very deep pain. That is why he must numb himself.
Morty: Come on, um…
Birdperson: Birdperson.
Morty: Come on, Birdperson. Rick’s not that complicated. He’s just a huge asshole.
Birdperson: Then why do you care so much if you are no longer allowed to continue on your adventures together? It appears fate has presented you with an opportunity to free yourself of Rick forever.
Morty: You know what? You’re right. I shouldn’t even care. This is probably the best thing that could have happened to me. I’m sick of having adventures with Rick.
Birdperson: My people have another saying, “gubba nub nub doo rah kah.” It means, “whatever lets you sleep at night.”

Dr. Bloom: Would you like to ride the bone train, miss?

News Anchor: We now go to Tom Randolph in New York. Tom?
Tom: Well, the eyes aren’t twinkling and the dimples aren’t merry, but I’m standing under a nose like a 70-mile cherry.
News Anchor: Thank you, Tom.

Jerry: Now, remember no tv, no phones, no laptops. We are connecting this Christmas, like old-school Jews on a Saturday.

Morty: Hey, just so you know, I-I-I’m actually 14. So, you know…
Annie: What?
Morty: Not 12.
Annie: Okay.
Morty: You know, because he just said I was 12.
Annie: Oh. Good for you.
Rick: Oof. Ugh. Morty. Strike one.

Rick: Morty, can you get to the left nipple?
Morty: Are you kidding? I’m hoping I can get to both of ’em, Rick.

Rick: Now who wants to watch random, crazy TV shows from different dimensions and then who wants to narcissistically obsess about their alternate self?
Jerry: I want to obsess about myself.

Morty: Hey, uh Y-Y-Y-You doin’ okay? I-I-I kind of know how you feel, Summer.
Summer: No, you don’t. You’re the little brother. You’re not the cause of your parents’ misery. You’re just a symptom of it.
Morty: Can I show you something?
Summer: Morty, no offense, but a drawing of me you made when you were 8 isn’t gonna make make me feel like less of an accident.
Morty: That, out there? That’s my grave.
Summer: Wait, what?
Morty: On one of our adventures, Rick and I basically destroyed the whole world. So we bailed on that reality, and we came to this one.
Because in this one, the world wasn’t destroyed. And in this one, we were dead. So we came here, a-a-and we buried ourselves, and we took their place. And every morning, Summer, I eat breakfast, 20 yards away from my own rotting corpse.
Summer: So, you’re not my brother?
Morty: I’m better than your brother. I’m a version of your brother you can trust when he says, “Don’t run”. Nobody exists on purpose, nobody belongs anywhere, everybody’s gonna die. Come watch TV.