Veronica: Watch it Heather, you might be digesting food there.
Heather McNamara: Yeah, where's your urge to purge?
Heather Duke: Fuck it.

J.D.: Chaos was what killed the dinosaurs, darling.

Veronica: 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 drainer.

Heather Chandler: You wanted to be a member of the most powerful clique in school. If I wasn't already the head of it, I'd want the same thing.

Veronica: What is your damage, Heather?

Heather Duke: Me and Martha Dumptruck? Where did you get this?
J.D.: I just had the nicest little chat with Ms. Dumptruck. Got along famously. It's kind of scary that everyone's got a little story to tell. You wanna see the canoeing shots?
Heather Duke: What is this? Blackmail? I'll give you a week's lunch money.
J.D.: I don't want your money. I want your strength. Westerburg does not need mushy togetherness. It needs a strong leader. Heather Chandler was that leader but...
Heather Duke: But she couldn't handle it.
J.D.: I think you can. Moby Dick is dunked. The white whale drank some bad plankton and splashed through a coffee table and now it's your turn to take the helm.
Heather Duke: What about the photographs?
J.D.: Oh, don't worry. I'll ask you to do me a favor. That will be one you'll enjoy. Then you'll get the negatives and everything back then. But in the meantime... strength. Here's a little gift. From Heather to Heather. *gives her Heather Chandler's red hair bow*

J.D.: Is your life perfect?
Veronica: I'm on my way to a party at Remington University... No, my life's not perfect. I don't really like my friends.
J.D.: I... I don't really like your friends either.
Veronica: Well, it's just like - they're people I work with, and our job is being popular and shit.
J.D.: Maybe it's time to take a vacation.

Veronica: 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...

Heather Duke: *playing croquet* So what are you gonna do Heather? Take two shots or send me out?
Heather Chandler: Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast? First you ask if you can be red, knowing that I'm always red. *puts her croquet ball against Heather's and sends it flying*
Heather Duke: Shit.
Heather Chandler: It's your turn, Heather.

Veronica: Betty Finn was a true friend and I sold her out for a bunch of Swatch dogs and Diet Coke heads. Killing Heather would be like offing the wicked witch of the west... wait east. West! God! I sound like a fucking psycho.

Veronica: Lick it up, baby. Lick. It. Up.

Veronica: Hey, Martha. My date for the prom kinda flaked out on me. I was wondering, If you weren't doing anything that night, maybe we could rent some new releases and pop some popcorn.
Martha 'Dumptruck' Dunnstock: I'd like that.
Veronica: Yeah. Me too.

Veronica: This may seem like a really stupid question...
J.D.: There are no stupid questions.
Veronica: You inherit 5 million dollars the same day aliens land on the earth and say they're going to blow it up in 2 days. What do you do?
J.D.: That's the stupidest question I've ever heard.

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

Veronica: 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.

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

Veronica: That knife is filthy.
J.D.: What do you think I'm going to do with it, take out her tonsils?
Veronica: 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.

J.D.: I can't believe you did it. I was teasing. I loved you. Course, I was coming up here to kill ya...