Mike Brady: As a wise man once said, "Wherever you go, there
you are."
[Sam gives Alice a bowling ball.] Sam: When I saw it, I thought
it was right up your alley. Alice: I'm bowled over.
Greg Brady: Hey there, groovy chicks. You're all hep in far
out ways.
Bobby Brady: Excuse me, officers, but I hate to ask a law
enforcement official to bend the rules, especially for Penal
Code 117, Section 33b, but our house is at stake.
Mike Brady: Our house is more important than money. This neighborhood
is more important than money. Tell me. How many times have
we borrowed each other's power tools or patched up each other's
kids? We know so much about each other. I know that every
January, Mr. Yeager is going to have that big Super Bowl party
at his house. We know that every spring, Mrs. Simmons is going
to have the prettiest daffodils on the block. We know that
at 10:15 every Saturday morning, Mrs. Topping likes to walk
through her living room naked. Call me old-fashioned, but
these things are important, and they're not for sale. This
is our neighborhood, and we're staying.
Carol Brady: Tiger? Tiger? What ever happened to that dog??
Eric Dittmeyer: She's harder to get into than a Pearl Jam
concert.
Marcia: [after getting hit in the nose with a ball] Now I'll
never be a teen model.
Doug: It's not your nose I'm after.
Jan's inner voice: Let's knock over a 7-11!
[Mrs. Dittmeyer tucks mail into Greg's pants] Mrs. Dena Dittmeyer:
My, you've gotten so big. You're almost as big as your daddy.
Greg Brady: And I'm still growing. Mrs. Dena Dittmeyer: Right
before my very eyes.
Peter Brady: Wow, Holly. You're Ginger and Mary Ann combined.
Mr. Dittmeyer: Why don't you jump back onto the Swiss Miss
Box where you belong? Cindy Brady: Okay!
Cindy Brady: [lisping] My mommy asked me to ask you if you
had any of our mail by mistake. Mr. Dittmeyer: Look, I don't
understand you, what do you want? Cindy Brady: My mommy asked
me to ask you if you had any of our mail by mistake. Mr. Dittmeyer:
What? Cindy Brady: My mommy asked me to ask you if you had
any of our mail by mistake. Mr. Dittmeyer: Nope, not a clue.
Marcia Brady: Oh those are pretty pictures, what have you
modeled for? Model: Guess. Marcia Brady: Are you a Breck girl?
Model: No, Guess Jeans. Marcia Brady: Levi's? Wrangler? Osh
Kosh B'Gosh?
Holly: I think Peter's a babe... in a Gilligan sort of way.
Mike Brady: Cindy, you know by tattling on your friends, you're
really just tattling on yourself. By tattling on your friends,
you're just telling them that you're a tattletale. Now is
that the tale you want to tell?
[Doug kisses Marcia.] Marcia: Doug! I think I just felt your
tongue in my mouth. Doug: It's called a french kiss. Marcia:
But I thought you were from Nebraska!
Mike Brady: Put on your Sunday best kids; we're going to Sears!
Charlie: Hey, I heard what you said, Doug, and I'm not gonna
let you talk to Marcia like that. Doug: Yeah? Charlie: Yeah.
Doug: Well, what are you gonna do about it, geek? Charlie:
I'm gonna... lose... consciousness...
Charlie: Marcia, I think I just felt your tongue in my mouth.
Marcia Brady: It's called a French kiss, Charlie. Charlie:
Um, Marcia, I gotta go. Uh... Something suddenly came up.
