What is your damage, Heather?
My parents wanted to move me into high school out of the sixth grade, but we decided to chuck the idea because I'd have trouble making friends, blah, blah, blah. Now blah, blah, blah is all I ever do. I use my grand IQ to decide what color lip gloss to wear in the morning and how to hit three keggers before curfew...
Great pate, mom, but I gotta motor if I wanna be ready for that party.
Great pate, mom, but I gotta motor if I wanna be ready for that funeral.
This isn't just a spoke in my menstrual cycle.
I say we just grow up, be adults and die.
If you were happy every day of your life you wouldn't be a human being. You'd be a game-show host.
Hi. I'm sorry. Technically, I did not kill Heather Chandler.. But hey, who am I trying to kid, right? I just want my High School to be a nice place... Amen... Did that sound bitchy?
What's the up-chuck factor on that?
Dear diary, my teen-angst bullshit now has a body count. Everybody's sad...but it's kind of a weird kind of sad. Suicide gave Heather depth, Kurt a soul, and Ram a brain. I don't know what it's given me, but I have no control over myself when I'm with J.D. Are we going to prom or to hell?
It's one thing to want someone out of your life, but it's another thing to serve them a wake-up cup full of Liquid Drano.
Nothing can stop JD, not the FBI, the CIA or the PTA.
You know what I want, babe? Cool guys like you out of my life.
Heather, my love, there's a new sheriff in town.
People will look at the ashes of Westerburg and say, "Now there's a school that self-destructed, not because society didn't care, but because the school was society." Now that's deep.
Chaos was what killed the dinosaurs, darling.
This is Ohio. If you don't have a brewski in your hand you might as well be wearing a dress.
The extreme always seems to make an impression.
I like it. It's got that it's-a-cruel-world-let's-throw-ourselves-in-the-abyss type ambience.
Our love is God. Let's go get a slushie.
Seven schools in seven states and the only thing different is my locker combination.
They're Ich l¸ge bullets.
The only place different social types can genuinely get along with each other is in heaven.