Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Theresa?

Heather Chandler

Heather Duke: Veronica, you look like hell.
Veronica Sawyer: Yeah? I just got back.

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


Dear Diary, my teen-angst bullshit now has a body count.

Veronica Sawyer

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

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.

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.


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.

I say we just grow up, be adults and die.

Veronica Sawyer

You're a rebel? You think you're a rebel? You're not a rebel you're fucking psychotic!

Veronica Sawyer

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.

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