Patrick: [mimicking his shop teacher] The prick punch is not a toy! I learned that back in 'Nam in '68. 'Callahan,' Sergeant said, 'you put down that prick punch and go kill some gooks!' And you know what happened? That prick punch killed my best friend in a Saigon whore house.
Mr. Callahan: I heard you were going to be in my class. Are you proud to be a senior having to take freshman shop, Patty-Cakes?
Patrick: Look, my name is Patrick. Either you call me Patrick or you call me nothing.
Mr. Callahan: Okay, Nothing.
Charlie: [voice-over] I felt really bad for Patrick. He wasn't doing the impersonation to be mean or anything. He was just trying to make us freshmen feel better.
Charlie: [voice-over] I don't know if I will have the time to write any more letters because I might be too busy trying to participate. So if this does end up being the last letter, I just want you to know that I was in a bad place before I started high school, and you helped me. Even if you didn't know what I was talking about or know someone who's gone through it, you made me not feel alone. Because I know there are people who say all these things don't happen. And there are people who forget what it's like to be 16 when they turn 17. I know these will all be stories someday. And our pictures will become old photographs. We'll all become somebody's mom or dad. But right now these moments are not stories. This is happening. I am here and I am looking at her. And she is so beautiful. I can see it. This one moment when you know you're not a sad story. You are alive, and you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder. And you're listening to that song and that drive with the people you love most in this world. And in this moment I swear, we are infinite.
Sam: Why do I and everyone I love pick people who treat us like we're nothing?
Charlie: We accept the love we think we deserve.
Patrick: I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room on the lips. And notice I charitably said girl and not person because let's face it, I'd smoke all you bitches.
Charlie: My doctor said we can't choose where we come from but we can choose where we go from there. I know it's not all the answers but it was enough to start putting these pieces together.
Charlie: Mr. Anderson? Can I ask you something?
Charlie: Why do nice people choose the wrong people to date?
Bill: Are we talking about anyone specific?
Bill: Well, we accept the love we think we deserve.
Charlie: Can we make them know that they deserve more?
Bill: We can try.
Sam: You can't just sit there and put everybody's lives ahead of yours and think that counts as love.
Charlie: If my Aunt Helen were still here, I could talk to her. And I know she would understand how I am both happy and sad, and I'm still trying to figure out how could that be.
Charlie: My Aunt Helen has said I should be a writer, but I don't know what I'd write about.
Sam: You could write about us.
Patrick: Yeah! Call it 'Slut and the Falcon'. Make us solve crimes.
[on the phone]
Charlie: Candice, I killed Aunt Helen, didn't I? She died getting my birthday present, so I guess I killed her, right? I tried to stop thinking that, but I can't. She keeps driving away and dying and I can't stop her. Am I crazy, Candace?
[Candace motions to one of her friends]
Candace: Call the police and send them to my house!
[back to the phone]
Candace: No, Charlie, listen to me. Mom and Dad are going to be home with Chris any second.
Charlie: What if I wanted her to die, Candace?
Sam: So, I'm guessing you've never been high before.
Charlie: No. No, no, no. My best friend, Michael, his dad was a big drinker, so he hated all that stuff. Parties too.
Sam: Well, where is Michael tonight?
Charlie: Oh, he shot himself last May. I kinda wish he'd left a note. You know what I mean?
[tripping on acid, to Sam]
Charlie: I saw this tree. But it was a dragon. Then it was a tree again. It just lied to me.
Charlie: I know who you are, Sam. I know I'm quiet... and, and I know I should speak more. But if you knew the things that were in my head most of the time, you'd know what it really meant. How, how much we're alike, and how we've been through the same things... and you're not small. You're beautiful.
Mr. Callahan: Nothing, why don't you read first?
Patrick: Alright, Chapter 1: Surviving your fascist shop teacher who needs to put kids down to feel big. Oh wow! This is useful guys, we should read on!
Patrick: Hey, everyone! Every body! Everyone, raise your glasses to Charlie.
Charlie: What did I do?
Patrick: You didn't do anything. We just want to toast to our new friend. You see things and you understand. You're a wallflower.
[Charlie gets embarrassed]
Patrick: What is it? What's wrong?
Charlie: I didn't think anyone noticed me.
Patrick: Well we didn't think there was anyone cool left to meet! So come on everyone. To Charlie!
Sam: You can't just sit there and put everybody's life ahead of yours and think that count as love.
Charlie: There is so much pain. And I-I-I don't know how to not notice it.
Dr. Burton: What's hurting you?
Charlie: No, not... not me. It's them! It's... it's everyone. It never stops. Do you understand?
Patrick: My turn! Let's see. Let's think... Charlie.
Patrick: How's your first relationship going?
Charlie: It's so bad, that I keep fantasizing that one of us is dying of cancer, so that I don't have to break up with her.
Sam: Charlie, I know that you know I like Craig. But I want to forget about that for a minute, okay?
Sam: I just want to make sure that the first person who kisses you loves you. Okay?
Sam: [Charlie is silent, transfixed. Sam gives a watery chuckle and moves closer to Charlie. They kiss, starting slow and becoming deeper. Sam pulls away after a dizzying moment or two] I love you, Charlie.
Charlie: I love you, too.
Charlie: So, you're not scared of me?
Charlie: So, can we be friends again?
Sam: Of course!
[She hugs him]
Sam: C'mon. Lets go be psychos together!
Mr. Callahan: [Mr. Callahan looks at Patrick's terrible attempt at the Shop class term project] You've gotta be kidding me.
Patrick: If you fail me, you get me next semester.
[cut to Patrick proudly announcing his C- in Shop]
Charlie: Sam, do you think if people knew how crazy you really were, no one would ever talk to you?
Sam: All the time.
Patrick: There's this one guy, queer as a 3 dollar bill. The guy's father doesn't know about his son. So, he comes into the basement one night when he's supposed to be out of town. Catches his son with another boy, so he starts beating him. But not like the slap kind, the real kind. And the boyfriend says, "Stop! You're killing him!" But the son just yells, "Get out!" And, eventually, the boyfriend just... did.
Sam: Oh my God! They're playing good music.
Patrick: Holy shit. Holy shit. They are, they're playing good music!
[Patrick holds his report card]
Patrick: C minus, ladies and gentlemen! I am below average!
Sam: Below average!
Patrick: Below average!
Patrick: I'll tell you Sam, this one is tough. I have received a harmonica, a magnetic poetry set, a book about Harvey Milk, and a mix tape with the song Asleep on it twice. I mean, I have no idea. This collection of presents is so gay that I think I must have given them to myself. Despite that distinct possibility, I'm going to have to go with... drum roll... Charlie! Obviously!
Charlie: Patrick never likes to be serious, so it took me a while to get what happened. When he was a junior, Patrick started seeing Brad on the weekends in secret. I guess it was hard, too, because Brad had to get drunk every time they fooled around. Then Monday in school Brad would say, 'Man, I was so wasted. I don't remember a thing.' This went on for seven months. When they finally did it Brad said he loved Patrick and then he started to cry. No matter what Patrick did, Brad kept saying that his dad would kill him and saying he was going to hell. Patrick was eventually able to help Brad get sober. I asked Patrick if he felt sad that he still had to keep it a secret, and he said no. Because at least now Brad doesn't have to get drunk to love him.
Patrick: [after witnessing Charlie kissing Sam during a game of Truth or Dare, when he's supposed to be kissing Mary Elizabeth] Oh, that's fucked up.
Mary Elizabeth: [after Charlie has handed them a bag of gifts] Wait a second, there's only Secret Santa presents. There's rules!
Patrick: Mary Elizabeth, why are you trying to EAT Christmas?
Charlie: Dear Friend, I'm sorry I haven't written in a while, but I've been trying hard not to be a loser.
Sam: Who's this?
Patrick: This is...
Charlie: Charlie... Kelmeckis.
Patrick: Kelmeckis! No shit! Your sister's dating Ponytail Derek, isn't she?
Charlie: Is that what they call him?
Sam: Would you leave Ponytail Derek alone? You put the ass in class, Patrick.
Patrick: I try. Sam, I try.
Sam: It's nice to meet you, Charlie. I'm Sam.
Mary Elizabeth: Charlie, Charlie, what do you think about high school?
Charlie: High school? Bullshit. The cafeteria is called the Nutrition Center; people wear their letter jackets even when it's 98 degrees out. And why do they give out letter jackets to marching band? It's not a sport. We all know it.
Mary Elizabeth: [laughing] This kid is crazy.
Charlie: Mary Elizabeth, I think you're really gonna regret that, you know
[imitates electric razor]
Charlie: haircut when you look back at old photographs. I'm really sorry. That sounded like a compliment in my head.
Patrick: You gonna do anything?
Brad: What are you talking about?
Patrick: I'm talking about your pet ape just tripped me. Gonna say something?
Brad: Why would I?
Patrick: You know why.
Brad: This is pathetic, man. Your fixation on me.
Patrick: Do you want your friends to know how you got those bruises? Really?
Brad: I got jumped in a parking lot.
Patrick: Where? Schenley Park? Do you guys know about Schenley Park?
Brad: I don't know what kinda sick shit you're trying to pull, but you better walk away right now. Nothing.
Patrick: Fine. Say hi to your dad for me.
Brad: Whatever, faggot.
Charlie: Are you having a good time?
Sam: Not really, how about you?
Charlie: I don't know. It's my first date, I don't have much to compare it to.
Charlie: Well, I have one thousand three hundred and eighty-four days to go. Just so I say it to someone, high school is even worse than middle school.
Patrick: You know, I used to be popular before Sam got me some good music.
Charlie: I think The Smiths are my favorite.
Sam: Are you kidding? I *love* The Smiths! Best break up band ever. What's your favorite song?
Patrick: Hey, Sam.
Sam: Question. Could the bathrooms here be anymore disgusting?
Patrick: Yes, they call it the men's room.
Sam: So, I finally got a hold of Bob.
Patrick: Party tonight?
Sam: He's still trying to shag that waitress from the Olive Garden.
Patrick: Ugh, he's never tossing that salad.
Mary Elizabeth: Alright guys, I got multiple pairs of blue jeans. Wow, this is a really tough one but I'm gonna have to guess Alice. Wait! Guys, a receipt! She actually paid! I'm so touched.
Patrick: My life is officially an after school special.
Bill: You know, I heard you had a tough time last year. But they say if you make one friend on your first day you're doing okay.
Charlie: Thank you, sir, but if my English teacher is the only friend I make today, that would be sorta depressing.
Charlie: Hey, Patrick.
Patrick: Hey! You're in my shop class, right? How's your clock coming?
Charlie: My dad's building it for me.
Patrick: Yeah. Mine looks like a boat. You wanna sit over here or are you waiting for your friends?
Charlie: No, no, no I'll sit.
Patrick: Thanks for not calling me Nothing, by the way. It's an endless nightmare. And these assholes, they actually think they're being original.
Charlie: Mary Elizabeth is a really nice person underneath the part of her that hates everyone.
Linebacker: Hey, Nothing!
Nose Tackle: Hey, Nothing!
Patrick: Let it go! Jesus! It's an antique joke. It's over!
Charlie: [voice-over] Dear Friend. I am writing to you because she said you listen and understand and didn't try to sleep with that person at that party even though you could have. Please don't try to figure out who I am. I don't want you to do that. I just need to know that people like you exist. Like if you met me you wouldn't think I was the weird kid who spent time in the hospital. And I wouldn't make you nervous. I hope it's okay for me to think that. You see, I haven't really talked to anyone outside of my family all summer. But tomorrow is my first day of high school ever, and I need to turn things around. So I have a plan. As I enter the school for the first time, I will visualize what it would be like on the last day of my senior year. Unfortunately I counted, and that's one thousand three hundred and eighty-five days.
Chris: How are you feeling, Charlie?
Chris: No, you know what I mean. Is it bad tonight?
Charlie: No, no. I'm not picturing things anymore. Or if I do I can just shut it off.
Chris: Well, you know, Mom did say that you have good friends now. And maybe if it does get bad again, you can just talk to them. Yeah?
Charlie: Yeah. Especially Sam. She's great.
Patrick: How is it that you've got meaner since becoming a buddhist?
Mary Elizabeth: Just lucky, I guess.
Patrick: No, you're doing something wrong, I think.
Patrick: [cheering] Be aggressive! Passive aggressive!
Charlie: My aunt had the same thing done to her too, and she turned her life around.
Sam: She must have been great.
Charlie: She was my favorite person in the world. Until now.
Patrick: This is Charlie's first party ever. So I expect nice, meaningful, heartfelt blow jobs, from both of you.
Charlie: You got me a present?
Sam: After all your help on my Penn State application? Of course I did. Open it!
[Charlie opens it to see a typewriter]
Charlie: I don't know what to say.
Sam: You don't have to say anything.