Let's pretend I blew up the school... all the schools. Now that you're dead, what are you gonna do with your life?

J.D.

I knew that loose was too noose... uh... noose too loose...

J.D.

Football season is over, Veronica. Kurt and Ram had nothing left to offer the school except for date rapes and AIDS jokes.

J.D.

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.

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.

The only place different social types can genuinely get along with each other is in heaven.

J.D.

Veronica Sawyer: I just killed my best friend.
J.D.: And your worst enemy.
Veronica Sawyer: Same difference.

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.

Seven schools in seven states and the only thing different is my locker combination.

J.D.

Your society nods its head at any horror the American teenager can think to bring upon itself.

J.D.

Our love is God, let's go get a Slushie.

J.D.

The extreme always seems to make an impression.

J.D.

FREE Movie Newsletter