Homer: Mom, I'm sorry I never come to see you.

Homer: Mom, I'm sorry I never come to see you. I'm just not a
cemetery person. "Here lies" --
Walt Whitman?! Aargh! Damn you, Walt Whitman!
[kicking grave] I! Hate! You! Walt! Freaking!
Whitman! "Leaves of Grass", my ass!
Wait a minute...maybe it's that other grave: the one that
says "Simpson"!
[goes over to it, sees his own name] Aaah! Oh, why does
my death keep coming back to haunt me?
[falls in grave]
Grandma: You awful, awful man! Get out of my son's grave.
Homer: I hate to rain on your parade, Lady, but this is _my_ grave
-- hey, wait a minute. Mom?
Grandma: Homer?
[they look at each other]
Homer: I thought you were dead!
Grandma: I thought _you_ were dead!
Gravedigger: {Well, dang blast it, isn't anybody in this dag gummed
cemetery dead?}
Hans: {[in a coffin] I didn't want to cause a fuss, but now that
you mention it --}
-- The almost-passing of Moleman in the Morning,
"Mother Simpson"