Worrying is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but it doesn't get you anywhere.

Van Wilder

Preston: I can't believe you pointed at her!
Denise: Look, she didn't see me! What are you, hyperventilating?
Preston: No, I'm hiransing my chi.
Denise: What?
Preston: I'm harnessing my chi.

All you need is scented candles, massage oil, and Barry White. Write that down.

Van Wilder

Yearbook Girl: So why didn't you get your picture taken?
Denise: Specifically to avoid moments like this.
Yearbook Girl: [not listening] Great, thanks!

Brandi: Suitor number 3, is your kiss like a soft breeze, a firm handshake or a jackhammer?
Gil Hicks: Definitely a jackhammer, I'm in there with some pressure and when I'm done, you're not the same as before. You're changed.
Brodie: Where do you come up with this shit? That's the cheesiest response to an honest question I have ever heard. I saw you kiss and it wasn't anything like that.
Bob Summers: [Chuckling] Suitor #2, you'll have to wait until you're addressed before you respond.
Brodie: Richard Dawson, why don't you just go back to your podium until it's time to play The Feud. All right?
[Audience laughs]
Gil Hicks: Who the hell did you see me kiss?
Brodie: Some dude backstage. I don't know who he was but he seemed unimpressed.
Gil Hicks: I didn't kiss any guy backstage. I swear. I'm not gay.
Brodie: Hey, Suitorette, this guys a homophobe. You heard how repulsed he sounded. Is this the kind of guy you want to spend a vacation with? This hate-monger?
Gil Hicks: I don't hate gay people.
Brodie: So you love them?
Gil Hicks: Yes. I mean no.
Brodie: Textbook closet case self-loather. Can't be comfortable with his own sexuality.

Brodie: I took you shopping all the time!
[Banging his hands against the elevator wall]
Rene: You took me where you went shopping, you jerk! You think I care what store in that shitpit dirt mall has the latest godzilla bootlegs? Do you call eating pizza in the same dive pizzeria every night eating out? Do I give a shit what two comic labels are crossing over characters, Selling two editions of the book in varied-ink chromium covers? I'm a girl, damn it! I wanna do girly things!

Sometimes you gotta let your heart lead you... even if you know its someplace you know you're not supposed to be.

Van Wilder

Preston: Hey, I've got one for ya. Remember that time when I was about to talk to that beautiful girl, and you came up to me and started telling me all these asinine stories? Remember that, huh?
Random Guy: No.
Preston: Gee, that's funny. Because it just happened!

Gwen: [Mouths] What are you doing here?
Van Wilder: [Mouths] I don't know!

Van Wilder: But you know what I've learned in my seven years here at Coolidge... Timmy? I've learned that you can't treat every situation as a life-and-death matter because you'll die a lot of times. Write that down.
Suicidal Freshman: I don't have a pen.
Van Wilder: Well remember that then. And you know something, Timmy? I think you've got the balls to make it here. Call me nuts, but I believe in you.

Brodie: Brandi is the past my friend. You face forward, or you face the possibility of shock and damage.
[Brodie gets knocked down by a metal beam]
Brodie: Where the hell did that come from? What's going on here?
T.S. Quint: Looks like a stage is being erected.
Brodie: What is this monstrosity?
T.S. Quint: Maybe it's for the Easter Bunny pictures.
Brodie: Impossible, the Easter Bunny Court is down at the other end of the mall, it's been there since two days after Christmas. I want answers!

Brodie: After all he's done to you, you should still kinda stick it to him.
T.S. Quint: How do you propose I do that?
Brodie: You stinkpalm him.
T.S. Quint: Stinkpalm?
Brodie: You take your hand and stick it in your ass like this. You been walkin' all day and you're nervous, so no doubt you'll be sweaty as hell.
T.S. Quint: You should see yourself right now, a grown man with his hand down his pants.
Brodie: Yeah i probably look like my old man. So you shake hands with the guy, "Hello Mr. Svenning how have you been?"
T.S. Quint: Whats the point?
Brodie: You know how long it takes for that smell to come off? Scrub all you want, it'll stick around for at least two days. How does he explain it to his colleagues and family? They'll think he doesn't know how to wipe his ass properly.
T.S. Quint: Meanwhile you yourself are left with a hand that smells like shit.
Brodie: Small price to pay for the smiting of one's enemies.

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