Scott: I don't think I'm ready to be a grown-up. Kim: I don't think you are either, buddy. But hey, you'll get it. It just takes practice.

Let's be friends based on mutual hate.

‎All my stupid little thoughts beget stupid little thoughts, rampantly speculating every possible outcome of every possible situation until they're all done to death and none of them could ever be true.

Tell it to the cleaning lady on Monday. Because you'll be dust on Monday. Because I'll be pulverizing you sometime over the weekend. And the cleaning lady... cleans up... dust. She dusts. And she has weekends off, so... Monday. Right?

This song is for the guy who keeps yelling from the balcony, and it's called 'We hate you, please die.'

Scott: I don't think I'm ready to be a grown-up. Kim: I don't think you are either, buddy. But hey, you'll get it. It just takes practice.

You suck, surprising no one!!!! If bad was a boot, you'd fit it!!!! You're a stupid poo-poo head! I had sexual relations with your mother! Your mother was not that good in bed! You, sir, are a wretched soul! I am rubber, you are glue!