Joan: Why can't you understand that you are screwing up my life? I just want to be like everyone else!
Goth Kid (God): I really have to give you the snowflake speech?
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Grace: Olatunji. African drums.
Luke: Pretentious attempt to co-opt another culture to hide your middle-class roots.
Grace: You're going to be bleeding soon.
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Grace: So now I have to get to know another person now...
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Joan: How do you deal with your dad being all into God?
Grace: Sometimes I hide his yamukah and watch him freak...
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Grace: ABBA…and those little meatballs. No wonder Sweden's filled with drugs.
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Joan: I didn't really want you to shake your booty.
Adam: That would've been ugly.
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Will: What happened to the cheery, optimistic Joan?
Joan: I found no future in optimism.
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Luke: High school house party. A primordial soup of hormonally charged organisms just longing for a lightning bolt and a little innocent mitosis.
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Grace: (referring to Joan) If she had an off switch, I'd use it...
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