Heather Chandler: Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Teresa?
J.D.: People will look at the ashes of Westerburg and say, "Now there's a school that self-destructed, not because society didn't care, but because the school was society." Now that's deep.
Veronica Sawyer: Dear Diary, my teen-angst bullshit now has a body count.
Veronica Sawyer: If you were happy every day of your life you wouldn't be a human being. You'd be a game-show host.
Veronica Sawyer: This may seem like a really stupid question...
J.D.: There *are* no stupid questions.
Veronica Sawyer: You inherit 5 million dollars the same day aliens land on the earth and say they're going to blow it up in 2 days. What do you do?
J.D.: That's the stupidest question I've ever heard.
Veronica Sawyer: I just killed my best friend.
J.D.: And your worst enemy.
Veronica Sawyer: Same difference.
Veronica's Mom: When teenagers complain that they want to be treated like human beings, it's usually because they are being treated like human beings.
Heather McNamara: Suicide is a private thing.
Veronica Sawyer: You're throwing your life away to become a statistic on U. S. fucking A. Today; that's about the least private thing I can think of.
Kurt's Dad: My son's a homosexual, and I love him. I love my dead gay son.
J.D.: Wonder how he'd react if his son had a limp wrist with a pulse.
Veronica Sawyer: Dear Diary: Heather told me she teaches people "real life." She said, real life sucks losers dry. You want to fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly. I said, so, you teach people how to spread their wings and fly? She said, yes. I said, you're beautiful.
Veronica Sawyer: You're a rebel? You think you're a rebel? You're not a rebel you're fucking psychotic!
Pauline Fleming: Whether to kill yourself or not is one of the most important decisions a teenager can make.
Heather Duke: I prayed for the death of Heather Chandler many times and I felt bad everytime I did it but I kept doing it anyway. Now I know you understood everything. Praise Jesus, Hallelujah.
Veronica Sawyer: Suicide gave Heather depth, Kurt a soul, and Ram a brain. I don't know what it's given me, but I have no control over myself when I'm with J.D. Are we going to prom or to hell?
Veronica Sawyer: All we want is to be treated like human beings, not to be experimented on like guinea pigs or patronized like bunny rabbits.
Veronica's Dad: I don't patronize bunny rabbits.
Veronica Sawyer: Heather, why can't you just be a friend? Why do you have to be such a mega-bitch?
Heather Duke: Because I can be.
Veronica Sawyer: You know what I want?
Veronica Sawyer: Cool guys like you out of my life.
Ram Sweeney: [after watching J.D. flirt with Veronica] Let's kick his ass!
Kurt Kelly: Shit, Ram - we're seniors, man. We're too old for that kind of crap. Let's give 'im a good scare, though.
[They walk to where J.D. is sitting]
Ram Sweeney: [Sticking his fingers into J.D.'s lunch] You gonna eat this?
Kurt Kelly: What did your boyfriend say when you told 'im you were movin' to Sherwood, Ohio?
Ram Sweeney: Answer him, dick!
Kurt Kelly: Hey Ram, doesn't this cafeteria have a "No Fags Allowed" rule?
J.D.: Well they, uh, seem to have an open door policy for assholes though, don't they?
Kurt Kelly: What did you say, dickhead?
J.D.: [He sighs, stands, and pulls out a gun] I'll repeat myself.
[He shoots Kurt and Ram]
Veronica Sawyer: Hey, Martha. My date for the prom kinda flaked out on me. I was wondering, If you weren't doing anything that night, maybe we could rent some new releases and pop some popcorn.
Martha 'Dumptruck' Dunnstock: I'd like that.
Veronica Sawyer: Yeah. Me too.
J.D.: I like it. It's got that what-a-cruel-world-let's-toss-ourselves-in-the-abyss type ambience.
Veronica Sawyer: She's my best friend. God, I hate her.
Veronica Sawyer: It's one thing to want someone out of your life, but it's another thing to serve them a wake-up cup full of liquid drainer.
J.D.: Is your life perfect?
Veronica Sawyer: I'm on my way to a party at Remington University... No, my life's not perfect. I don't really like my friends.
J.D.: I... I don't really like your friends either.
Veronica Sawyer: Well, it's just like - they're people I work with, and our job is being popular and shit.
J.D.: Maybe it's time to take a vacation.
Veronica Sawyer: [writing in diary] Betty Finn was a true friend and I sold her out for a bunch of Swatch dogs and Diet Coke heads. Killing Heather would be like offing the wicked witch of the west... wait east. West! God! I sound like a fucking psycho.
Heather McNamara: It's your turn Heather.
Heather Chandler: No, Heather, it's Heather's turn. Heather?
Heather Duke: Sorry Heather.
Veronica's Dad: Will someone tell me why I smoke these damn things?
Veronica Sawyer: Because you're an idiot.
Veronica's Dad: Oh yeah, that's it.
J.D.: Your society nods its head at any horror the American teenager can think to bring upon itself.
Veronica Sawyer: I say we just grow up, be adults and die.
J.D.: Seven schools in seven states and the only thing different is my locker combination.
J.D.: Wanna go out tonight? Catch a movie? Miniature golf?
Veronica Sawyer: I was thinking more along the lines of slitting Heather Duke's wrists open, making it look like suicide.
J.D.: Ah, now you're talking. I can be up for that. I've already started underlining meaningful passages in her copy of Moby Dick, if you know what I mean.
J.D.: The only place different social types can genuinely get along with each other is in heaven.
Veronica Sawyer: Heather, my love, there's a new sheriff in town.
Veronica Sawyer: That knife is filthy.
J.D.: What do you think I'm going to do with it, take out her tonsils?
Veronica Sawyer: Excuse me, I think I know Heather a little bit better than you do. If she were going to slit her wrists, the knife would be spotless.
Veronica Sawyer: You know, I have a little prepared speech I tell my suitor when he wants more than I'd like to give him. Gee, blank, I had a really nice...
Brad: Save the speeches for Malcolm X, I just want to get laid.
Veronica Sawyer: You don't deserve my fucking speech.
J.D.: Football season is over, Veronica. Kurt and Ram had nothing left to offer the school except date rapes and AIDS jokes.
Veronica Sawyer: If everyone jumped off a bridge, would you?
Heather McNamara the Cheerleader: Probably.
Heather Chandler: [sticker inside locker] I shop, therefore I am.
Geek: Ah, oh, uh! I like to suck big dicks. Or, uh... Mmmm! Mmmm! I can't get enough of 'em!
Heather Chandler: You stupid fuck.
Veronica Sawyer: You goddamn bitch.
Heather Chandler: I brought you to a Remington party and what's my thanks? It's on a hallway carpet. I got paid in puke.
Veronica Sawyer: Lick it up, baby. Lick. It. Up.
Courtney: If I got that money, I'd give it all to the homeless. Every cent.
Veronica Sawyer: You're beautiful.
Heather McNamara: God, they're not gonna expel him. they'll just suspend him for a week or something.
Heather Chandler: He used a real gun, they should throw his ass in jail.
Veronica Sawyer: He used blanks. all he did was ruin 2 pairs of pants, maybe not even that... can you bleach out urine stains?
Veronica Sawyer: What the fuck?
Rodney: Ok, now I rarely listen to Neanderthals like Kurt Kelly but he said that he and Ram had a nice little sword fight in your mouth last night.
Veronica Sawyer: Ew! That son of a bitch.
Heather Duke: Hi, everybody. Door was open. Veronica, did you hear? We were doing Chinese at the food fair, when it comes over the radio that Martha Dumptruck tried to buy the farm. She belly-flopped in front of a car wearing a suicide note.
Veronica Sawyer: Is she dead?
Heather Duke: No... that's the punchline. She's alive, and in stable condition. Just another case of a geek trying to imitate the popular people and failing miserably.
Veronica Sawyer: [slaps Heather]
Veronica Sawyer: [camera cuts to Veronica's room] I said I was sorry!
Heather Duke: You were out of control! I mean Heather and Kurt were a shock but Martha Dumptruck? Get crucial! She was dialing suicide hotlines in her diapers!
Veronica Sawyer: Ugh... shut-up, Hot Probs is on.
J.D.: I can't believe you did it. I was teasing. I loved you. Course, I was coming up here to kill ya...
Student: Did you hear? School's canceled today cause Kurt & Ram killed themselves in a repressed, homosexual, suicide pact.
Heather Duke: No Way!
J.D.: Let's pretend I blew up the school... all the schools. Now that you're dead, what are you gonna do with your life?
Officer Milner: [arriving on crime scene] So, what's the deal?
Officer McCord: Suicide. Double suicide. They shot each other!
Officer Milner: Hey, that's Kurt Kelly!
Officer McCord: And the line backer, Ram Sweeney.
Officer Milner: My God, suicide. Why?
Officer McCord: [holds up bottle of mineral water found next to one of the bodies] Does *this* answer your question?
Officer Milner: [appalled] Oh man! They were fags?
Officer McCord: [grimly] Listen up:
[reading from forged suicide letter]
Officer McCord: "We realized we could never reveal our forbidden love to an uncaring and un-understanding world."
Officer Milner: [disgusted] Jesus H. Christ!
Officer McCord: The quarterback, buggering the linebacker...
Officer McCord: What a waste!
Officer Milner: Oh, the humanity!
Veronica Sawyer: [praying over Heather's casket] Hi, I'm sorry. Technically, I did not kill Heather Chandler, but hey who am I trying to kid, right? I just want my high school to be a nicer place. Amen. Did that sound bitchy?
Heather McNamara: God, they won't expel him, they'll just suspend him for a week or something.
Heather Chandler: He used a real gun. They should throw his ass in jail.
Veronica Sawyer: No way. He used blanks. All J. D. really did was ruin two pairs of pants, maybe not even that. Can you bleach out urine stains?
Veronica Sawyer: This isn't just a spoke in my menstrual cycle.
Veronica Sawyer: Hello, Heather.
Heather Chandler: Veronica. Finally. I got a note of Kurt Kelly's. I need you to forge a hot and horny but realistically low-key note in Kurt's handwriting, and we'll slip it onto Martha Dumptruck's lunch tray.
Veronica Sawyer: Shit, Heather, I don't have anything against Martha Dunnstock.
Heather Chandler: You don't have anything for her either. Come on, it'll be very. The note'll give her shower-nozzle masturbation material for weeks.
Veronica Sawyer: I'll think about it.
Heather Chandler: Don't think.
Heather Chandler: Is this turnout weak or what? I had at least 70 more people at my funeral.
Veronica Sawyer: Heather?
Heather Chandler: God, Veronica. My afterlife is so boring. I have to sing Kumbaya one more time...
Veronica Sawyer: What are you doing here?
Heather Chandler: I made your favorite. Spaghetti. With lots of oregano. Dinner!
Veronica Sawyer: [wakes up from dream]
Heather Chandler: You were nothing before you met me. You were playing Barbies with Betty Finn. You were a Bluebird. You were a Brownie. You were a Girl Scout Cookie.
Heather Chandler: They all want me as a friend or a fuck. I'm worshiped at Westerburg and I'm only a junior.
Veronica Sawyer: If you think I'm doing another suicide note you're wrong!
J.D.: You don't get it do you? Society nods its head at any horror the American teenager can think upon itself. Nobody is going to care about exact handwriting.
Heather Chandler: [sarcastic] Intense... grow up. You think I'll drink it just because you call me chicken...? Just gimmie the cup, jerk.
J.D.: I knew that loose was too noose... uh... noose too loose...
Dennis: Take a look. We'll have a two page layout with her suicide note here in the right hand corner. It's more tasteful than it sounds.
Veronica Sawyer: I don't know. This kind of thing leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
Courtney: Like last night, Veronica?
J.D.: Well, ah... Let's take a look at some of the homosexual artifacts I dug up to plant at the scene.
[He picks up a shopping bag and pulls items out of it]
J.D.: All right. Got an issue of "Stud Puppy."
Veronica Sawyer: Great!
J.D.: Candy dish. Joan Crawford postcard. Let's see, some mascara. All right. And here's the one perfecto thing I picked up. Mineral water.
Veronica Sawyer: Oh, come on, a lot of people drink mineral water, it's come a long way.
J.D.: Yeah, but this is Ohio. I mean, if you don't have a brewski in your hand you might as well be wearing a dress.
Veronica Sawyer: Oh, you're so smart.
Heather Chandler: Transfer to Washington. Transfer to Jefferson. No one at Westerberg is going to let you play their reindeer games.
Heather Chandler: You blow it tonight, girl, and it's keggers with kids all next year.
Heather Duke: [playing croquet] So what are you gonna do Heather? Take two shots or send me out?
Heather Chandler: Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast? First you ask if you can be red, knowing that I'm always red.
[puts her croquet ball against Heather's and sends it flying]
Heather Duke: Shit.
Heather Chandler: It's your turn, Heather.
Ram Sweeney: [praying in Heather's funeral] Jesus God in Heaven, why'd you have to kill such hot snatch?
Ram Sweeney: It's a joke man. Geez, people are so serious.
Ram Sweeney: Holy Mary who art in Heaven pray for us sinners... so we don't get caught
[grins and looks up worriedly]
Ram Sweeney: Another joke.
Heather Duke: Some people need different kinds of convincing than others.
Pauline Fleming: I think it's a good opportunity to share the... feelings that this suicide has spurred in all of us. Now, who would like to begin?
Female Stoner: I heard it was really gnarly. She sucked down a bowl of multi-purpose deodorizing disinfectant, and then SMASH.
Pauline Fleming: Now Tracey, let's not rehash the coroner's report. Let's talk emotions.
Heather McNamara: God, aren't they fed yet? Do they even have Thanksgiving in Africa?
Veronica Sawyer: Oh, sure. Pilgrims, Indians... Tator Tots. It's a real party continent.
Veronica Sawyer: Tomorrow, I'll be kissing her aerobicized ass, but tonight, let me dream of a world without Heather, a world where I am free.
Veronica Sawyer: So, what's the question?
Heather Duke: Yeah, so what's the question, Heather?
Heather Chandler: Goddamn, Heather, you were with me in study hall when I thought of it.
Heather Duke: I forgot.
Heather Chandler: Ugh... such a pillowcase.
Officer McCord: [on radio] Do you hear me, Milner? What's going down?
Officer Milner: Yeah, yeah... I think what I heard back there was a bunny rabbit. All I got here is two kids making out in a station-wagon. Should I pry 'em apart?
Officer McCord: No, no, forget it. I've got *all* the answers back here.
[on second thought]
Officer McCord: Hey... are they naked?
J.D.: [lying on the ground with Veronica under his jacket] Mmm. I thank you. That was my first game of strip croquet.
J.D.: [after killing Heather] What are we gonna tell the cops? "Fuck it if she can't take a joke, Sarge".
Veronica Sawyer: The cops? This is my life. Oh, my God. I'll have to send my S.A.T. scores to San Quentin instead of Stanford.
Veronica Sawyer: Watch it Heather, you might be digesting food there.
Heather McNamara: Yeah, where's your urge to purge?
Heather Duke: Fuck it.
Pauline Fleming: Now... it seems we were in a similar position on Monday when I thoughtfully suggested we get everybody together for an unadulterated emotional outpouring. But no. You took this as an opportunity to play yet another round of "Let's Laugh at the Hippie."
Counselor Paul Hyde: Pauline...
Principal: Shut up, Paul. Now I've seen a lot of bullshit. Angel dust. Switchblades. Sexually perverse photography exibits involving tennis rackets. But this suicide thing... guess that's more on Pauline's wavelength. Well, we're gonna just write off today. And on Friday she can hold her little "Love-In" or... whatever. Whatever.
Heather Chandler: You wanted to be a member of the most powerful clique in school. If I wasn't already the head of it, I'd want the same thing.
J.D.: [shows Heather pictures]
Heather Duke: Me and Martha Dumptruck? Where did you get this?
J.D.: I just had the nicest little chat with Ms. Dumptruck. Got along famously. It's kind of scary that everyone's got a little story to tell. You wanna see the canoeing shots?
Heather Duke: What is this? Blackmail?
Heather Duke: [pause]
Heather Duke: I'll give you a week's lunch money.
J.D.: I don't want your money. I want your strength. Westerburg does not need mushy togetherness. It needs a strong leader. Heather Chandler was that leader but...
Heather Duke: But she couldn't handle it.
J.D.: I think you can. Moby Dick is dunked. The white whale drank some bad plankton and splashed through a coffee table and now it's your turn to take the helm.
Heather Duke: What about the photographs?
J.D.: Oh, don't worry. I'll ask you to do me a favor. That will be one you'll enjoy. Then you'll get the negatives and everything back then. But in the meantime... strength. Here's a little gift. From Heather to Heather.
J.D.: [gives her Heather Chandler's red hair bow]
Veronica Sawyer: My parents wanted to move me into high school out of the sixth grade, but we decided to chuck the idea because I'd have trouble making friends, blah, blah, blah. Now blah, blah, blah is all I ever do. I use my grand IQ to decide what color lip gloss to wear in the morning and how to hit three keggers before curfew...
Veronica Sawyer: Great pate, mom, but I gotta motor if I wanna be ready for that party tonight.
Heather Duke: Veronica, can you come back here a minute?
Veronica Sawyer: A true friend's work is never done.
Heather Chandler: Gross.
Heather McNamara: God had cursed me I think. The last guy I had sex with killed himself the next day. I'm failing math. I was supposed to be cheerleading captain...
Veronica Sawyer: She knows we listen to this show.
Heather Duke: Ohmygod.
Heather Duke: We'll crucify her!
Father Ripper: We must pray the other teenagers of Sherwood, Ohio, know the name of that righteous dude who can solve their problems: it's Jesus Christ, and he's in the Book.
Brad: It's so great to be able to talk to a girl and not have to ask "What's your major?". I hate that... So, when you go to college, what subjects do you think you'll study?
2nd Heavy Metaller in Parking Lot: [after being asked the lunchtime poll question] You go to the zoo and you get a lion. Stick a remote control bomb up it's butt... push the button on the bomb and you and the lion die like one.
Peter: [praying next to Heather Chandler's coffin] Dear Lord, please make sure this never happens to me because I don't think I could handle suicide. Fast, early acceptance into an Ivy League school and please let it be Harvard. Amen.
Ram Sweeney: [Veronica has invited Ram and Kurt to have a threesome with her in the woods - there is an awkward pause] So, should I just whip it out, or...?
Kurt Kelly: [drunkenly] When I get that feeling, I need sexual healing.
Veronica Sawyer: [disgusted] Yeah, right, asshole!
Dennis: I'm not belittleing the foodless fund, Peter, but we're talking teen suicide, here. I mean ask Alison; the number one song in America today is Teenage Suicide, Don't Do It by Big Fun. Jesus, man, Westerburg finally got one of these things and I'm not gonna blow it.
Peter: Great, so Heather gets the front page and I get crammed in by the Taco Bell coupon.
Kurt Kelly: It'd be so righteous to be in a Veronica Sawyer/Heather Chandler sandwich. Punch it in, Ram.
Ram Sweeney: Oh, hell yes. I wanna set a Heather on my Johnson and just start spinnin' her around like a goddamn pinwheel.