Amanda: BNJ
Brenda: What's that?
Amanda: Before nose job.

Amanda: Dammit.
Kelly: What?
Amanda: It's after midnight!
Brenda: So what? Do frat boys turn into pumpkins?
Amanda: No, they turn into drunken slobs.

Andrea: Are you, uh, going to the school dance?
Brandon: No, are you?
Andrea: Uh, no.
Brandon: Personally, I hate to dance.
Andrea: You do?
Brandon: Yeah. I always step on people's toes, I have no sense of rhythm, it's awful.
Andrea: So, you probably wouldn't want to go even if someone asked you?
Brandon: I don't know. Would you?
Andrea: Well, I have fundamental ideological problems with teenage social rituals that basically do nothing but exacerbate fears of total insecurity and inferiority over one's appearance while frenetically exploiting, and I must hasten to add, distorting, the feminine ideal. I mean, in an act which reaches it's apogee with the election of the spring queen.
Brandon: Was that a yes or a no?
Andrea: What was the question?

Andrea: Look, I feel like a fool for coming but...I don't care, all I know is, I don't want to turn into some deranged axe murderer...or...or worse yet...wake up one morning, ten years from now, and suddenly realize that I totally missed out on high school.

Brandon: Come on, Dad, you know how hard I work. And last night Nat tells me that I can't go to Palm Springs this weekend with all of my friends because his sister's sick, and now I have to work all weekend, but you don't hear me complaining, do ya?
Jim: Yes.

Brandon: First day of school. Strange city, new house, no friends...I'm psyched!

Brandon: Hey. You're gonna be just fine.
Brenda: How do you know that, Brandon?
Brandon: Cause I'm older. And wiser.
Brenda: And just how much wisdom did you accumulate in those momentous four minutes?
Brandon: A small lifetime.
Brenda: Very small.

Brandon: I don't even know what to say.
Kelly: Try "E pluribus unum."
Brandon: Where'd you learn that?
Kelly: It's on money.

Brandon: I mean, she knew everything about me.
Brenda: Even how you used to eat Mom's makeup?

Brandon: Nice house, man.
Steve: This is nothing. You should have seen where I used to live before my parents got divorced.
Brandon: When was that?
Steve: Which time?
Brandon: They've divorced each other twice?
Steve: Oh, amongst other things. There have been other marriages mixed in, other kids, other houses, you know. What, your parents are still together?
Brandon: Yeah.
Steve: Well look, it's not your fault. You've got to stop blaming yourself.

Brenda: ...it's like, the geese flying south. Or north, or wherever they go.

Brenda: [to her mother] You told him, didn't you?
Jim: Brenda, it's nothing to be embarrassed about.
Brenda: Dad, I know that. I just didn't want you getting upset over nothing.
Jim: I'm not upset!
Brenda: Well, why not?
Jim: Because it...could be a million things!
Brenda: Like what?
Jim: I don't know. Maybe it's...well, an ingrown hair.
Brenda: An ingrown hair? On my left breast? I sincerely hope not. You know, Mom, this is why I didn't want you to tell him, this is the kind of explanation Brandon would come up with.
Brandon: What is?
Brenda, Jim, Cindy: Nothing!
Brandon: Uh huh...

Brenda: Does a needle biopsy have anything to do with a needle?

Brenda: Doesn't anyone know any more jokes? Dylan?
Dylan: None that I could tell here.
[The doorbell rings.]
Cindy: [Answers the phone] Hello?
Jim: Honey, it's the doorbell.

Brenda: Dylan says it looks incandescent.
Brandon: My friend Dylan?
Brenda: My friend Dylan.