Harold Weir: Well, everybody's got parents, Jean, even hookers. Remember that TV movie we saw?
Bill Haverchuck: [prank calling] Fredericks? You're a turd. A stinky f-fat turd. Go sniff a jock strap, you poop head. You love patting boys' butts. You love patting boys' butts. Butt... you butt-patter! You're a perv and a loser... and a stinky... t-turd!
Harold Weir: Lindsay, do you know what happens when you put a rotten banana in a fruit bowl? All the other bananas go rotten. And that's what Kim Kelly is: a bad banana.
Harold Weir: [holding up his thumb] This! The thumb! You think I don't know what that means? I know, Lindsay! It means, "Hey, stranger! Please lock me in your car, drive me to God knows where and murder me!"
Kim Kelly: Are you calling me irrational? Because I'll tear your head off, Daniel. I'll tear it off, and I'll throw it over that fence.
Jock: Oh, man, the geeks have inherited the earth.
Lindsay Weir: [while hitchhiking] We're so sheltered, you know? There's this whole other America out there. The person who picks us up could be an artist or a psychic or an escaped felon. This is so exciting!
Jean Weir: I had a diary when I was little. If my parents had read it, I would've been furious. Such a violation.
Harold Weir: Spooning with a stranger in the backseat of a van, that's a violation!
Harold Weir: [looking through Lindsay's drawer for her diary] These stamps... I heard the kids put LSD on the back of them.
Jean Weir: [serving dinner] Okay. I've got something special for us tonight. Ta-da!
Harold Weir: What the hell?
Jean Weir: Uh, Harold, they're Cornish Game Hen with a plum wine sauce. They're fantastic.
Harold Weir: What'd you do, put poison in a bird feeder?
Neal Schweiber: You are a dimwit. And an imbecile. I blow my nose in your general direction.
Coach Ben Fredricks: T-t-that's not in there!
Neal Schweiber: It isn't?