Heather Chandler: Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Teresa?
Veronica Sawyer: Get a job.
Heather Chandler: They all want me as a friend or a fuck. I'm worshiped at Westerburg and I'm only a junior.
Veronica's Mom: When teenagers complain that they want to be treated like human beings, it's usually because they are being treated like human beings.
J.D.: Football season is over, Veronica. Kurt and Ram had nothing left to offer the school except date rapes and aids jokes.
Kurt Kelly: It'd be so righteous to be in a Veronica Sawyer/Heather Chandler sandwich. Punch it in, Ram.
Ram Sweeney: Oh, hell yes. I wanna set a Heather on my Johnson and just start spinnin' her around like a goddamn pinwheel.
Veronica Sawyer: Heather, my love, there's a new sheriff in town.
Heather Chandler: You were nothing before you met me. You were playing Barbies with Betty Finn. You were a Bluebird. You were a Brownie. You were a Girl Scout Cookie.
Pauline Fleming: I think it's a good opportunity to share the... feelings that this suicide has spurred in all of us. Now, who would like to begin?
Female Stoner: I heard it was really gnarly. She sucked down a bowl of multi-purpose deodorizing disinfectant, and then smash.
Pauline Fleming: Now Tracey, let's not rehash the coroner's report. Let's talk emotions.
Courtney: If I got that money, I'd give it all to the homeless. Every cent.
Veronica Sawyer: You're beautiful.
Veronica Sawyer: This isn't just a spoke in my menstrual cycle.
Veronica Sawyer: Dear Diary, my teen-angst bullshit now has a body count.
Veronica Sawyer: Great pate, mom, but I gotta motor if I wanna be ready for that funeral.
Veronica Sawyer: She's my best friend. God, I hate her.
Heather Chandler: Transfer to Washington. Transfer to Jefferson. No one at Westerberg is going to let you play their reindeer games.