Amanda: That's the first honest thing you've said to me since the sixth grade.

Amanda: I think I'll just Steve Jobs my way through life.

Lily: Have you been showering?

Amanda: Recently, only every couple of days. Nobody said anything so I assumed I was getting away with it.

Lily: Well, you're not.

Amanda: Not sorry I tried.

Amanda: [Lily is crying] There you go.

Lily: What?

Amanda: The technique.

Lily: I'm not using the technique.

Amanda: You cannot hesitate. The only thing worse than being incompetent, or being unkind, or being evil, is being indecisive.

Tim: [after noticing the gash in his head] What am I going to tell my dad?

Amanda: Wear a hat.

Amanda: [Holding up his gun] We're keeping this by the way.

Amanda: What do you want me to say?

Tim: You've got a creepy friend.

Lily: I know.

Amanda: You should be honest about your feelings. Otherwise it starts coming out in passive-aggressive ways.

[last lines]

Lily: [about Amanda's dream from her letter] I'm Honeymooner, and I'm dying. And I rise out of my body, and I'm staring down at our whole suburb, and time is speeding up. And I see generations of people coming, and going, and building bigger houses. And then eventually... the people start spending more and more of their time staring at their smartphones. And soon enough, they're forgetting to clean their houses, or mow their lawns, or eat. And eventually all the houses rot and collapse, and the people disappear, vanishing completely into the Internet. And then... and this is the really beautiful part, the horses take over. And the whole suburb is just beautiful thoroughbred stallions with no owners and no memory of owners and no way of knowing how expensive they are, just mating and galloping through the ruins.

Tim: What else did it say?

Lily: I don't know. I just threw it away.

Lily: I saw the photos.

Amanda: Oh.

Lily: I think you should leave.

Amanda: Why?

Lily: I just think you should.

Amanda: I don't get it.

Lily: You don't have to.

Mark: How long are you here, Amanda?

Amanda: My mom's gonna pick me up around midnight.

Mark: Midnight's late for us. I'll call your mom, she can come pick you up now.

Amanda: She's busy.

Mark: Doing what?

AmandaMark: Chemotherapy.

Amanda: Well, the shrink would sure like it to be. First it was borderline personality, than severe depression, now she thinks I'm antisocial with schizoid tendencies. She's basically just flipping to random pages of the DSM and throwing medications at me. But at the end of the day, I have a perfectly healthy brain. It just doesn't contain feelings. And that doesn't necessarily make me a bad person. It just means I have to work a little harder than everybody else to be good.

Amanda: I think most of this country's moral norms comes from weird old Puritan bullshit. A human life isn't some sacred thing. There's nothing holy about a dick and a vaj getting together and spitting out a little dude.