Greg: One last thing. Hot girls destroy your life. That's just a fact.
Greg: Ugh, tests... I've been there.
Earl: You gonna play with them titties?
Greg: You know I'm terminally awkward and I have a face like a little groundhog. I just feel like, you know, for a kid like me in high school best case scenario, just survive. You know? Survive without creating any mortal enemies or hideously embarassing yourself forever.
Earl: Dude, where you at? Imma gonna eat your squid
Greg: Summer. What does that word even mean, right? More "summ." Winter, same deal. More "wint"?
Greg: So again, if this was a touching, romantic story we'd obviously fall in love and she'd say all the wise, beautiful things that can only be learned in life's twilight or whatever. And then she'd die in my arms. But again, that's not what happened. She just got quieter and unhappier.
Limo Driver: So you love this girl?
Greg: Uh, no. I wouldn't go that far.
Earl: You gonna take her out for Ice Cream. And you gonna take me too, cause I love that shit.
Earl: It's just crazy how patient you've been. You know, I know if it was me that had cancer, uh... I'd be upset and angry and trying to beat everybody's ass half the time. So I'm just, I'm just amazed at how patient you've been. You, you make me feel blessed.
Greg: So if this was a touching romantic story this is probably where a new feeling would wash over me and suddenly we would be furiously making out with the fire of a thousand suns. But this isn't a touching romantic story.
Earl: I'm so tired of you treating this girl like she's a burden. You know, her life is over after this! And you want to come over here bitching and whining about some irrelevant bullshit!
Greg: We make films. We've been making them since we were little...
Greg: The idea behind each one was we took a film that we like and made the title stupider. And then made a new film to reflect the new stupid title. It's a formula that only produces horrible films, but for some reason we kept using it.
Earl: He hates calling people his friends. Dude's got issues.
Rachel: Is that a black power salute?
Greg: No, I was going in for a fist bump.
Rachel: I can't fist bump you from up here.
Greg: Yeah, I realize that.
Earl: Like you care so much about what other people think, boy, you go around here kissing everybody's ass pretending like they're your friend. Look, nobody gives a shit about you, Greg! All right? Nobody gives a shit.
Greg: I remember visiting Rachel too. Sometimes she talked, and sometimes she didn't want to. When she didn't want to I talked. Or we watched movies. Sometimes she laughed, sometimes she didn't.
