Seth: Comicon is basically a bunch of pathetic virgins ogling some porn star dressed as Catwoman.
Ryan: I thought you said you went every year.

Seth: Do I force a confrontation or do I just continue to be whiny and passive-aggressive until she realizes what a catch I am?

Seth: Do you know what I dream about when I dream about Thanksgiving, which is a lot? I dream that I eat so much deliciousness that all the blood rushes to my stomach and I pass out right at the table. Please do not deny me that.
Ryan: Whoa, now that's just weird.

Seth: Do you want to play Grand Theft Auto? It's pretty cool. You can like, steal cars and... not that that's cool. Or uncool. I don't know... um...

Seth: Dude, I cannot believe you live in the penthouse, man. This place is ridonculous.
Marissa: Yeah, it's always been my fantasy to live in a hotel. Like Eloise.

Seth: Every year some big water polo player ends up peeing in one of my shoes... Nah, I'm just kidding. He pees in both of them.

Seth: God! Dad, those eyebrows are out of control.
Sandy: It's a sign of power, you know.
Seth: Well, then you must be the most powerful man in the world.
Sandy: Well, brace yourself, son. It's genetic.

Seth: How was Pittsburgh?
Anna: It was good to be home.
Seth: Yeah. Pittsburgh's also the home of Andy Warhol, Mr. Rogers and ketchup. You can't compete with that.

Seth: How was the mall?
Ryan: Eh... Weird.
Seth: Yes. You've really painted a picture for me. I feel like I was there.

Seth: I know Jon Stewart's no Leno, but, you know...

Seth: I'm going 70 in a 65 zone.
Summer: 80 is the new 70.
Seth: What? Who talks like that?
Summer: Who gets passed by a van full of nuns? Oh, wait, Cohen does!
Seth: Well they have God on their side, Summer, okay. I'm not gonna beat Jesus.
Summer: I'm gonna call Holly and see how far ahead of us they are. And she's a girl!
Seth: That's insulting to your own gender.
Summer: Not as insulting as it is to you.

Seth: I'm going to visit Ryan. I thought, you know, maybe you'd like to come. I'm sure he'd love to see you.
Marissa: Uh, what's that, Seth? Did you say you need a ride to a Star Wars convention?
Seth: Star Wars convention? I'm sorry, her top was off. You couldn't at least have said X-Men for me?

Seth: I'm sorry, Summer. I need to take a stand. Okay, this whole separation of the public and private spheres is not working for me. I can't do it.
Summer: But I told you how-
Seth: One day, you know, you might have some MTV-driven radio hits and a little moderately priced teen clothing line. I could get offered $20 million to portray a blind superhero in a red leather unitard. But until the, as long as we're complete faceless nobodies living in obscurity... I can't acknowledge you privately if you're not gonna acknowledge me publicly. So, let me know when you're ready to come to the bargaining table. But until then, you just consider me on strike.
Summer: Well you'll be crossing your own picket line in no time.
Seth: Fight the power.

Seth: It turns out that I'm quite skilled at getting a date, provided it's not for me.

Seth: It'd be good to take some me-time... work on the novel. Tonight would make a good chapter.