Popular Dean Forester Quotes
Rory: Well it's this thing where you go and they play music and you're supposed to get all dressed up and do some kind of dance and then there's chicken.
Dean: Chicken?
Rory: Well I don't know if there's chicken. But at these kinds of things they often serve chicken because it's probably cheaper and people eat it, so the logic behind the chicken choice really isn't that bad.
Dean: I'm lost.
Rory: It's a dance.
Dean: You don't want to fight me Tristan.
Tristan: Why not?
Dean: Because I will kill you, idiot!
Dean: Are you asking me to the dance?
Rory: No.....yes.
Lorelai: I don't hate you.
Dean: No?
Lorelai: No. Though I did imagine 20 different ways to remove your head from your body.
Dean: Yeah? Which one looked the best?
Lorelai: Hedge clippers. Dull ones.
Dean: We were reading a book and then we fell asleep.
Lorelai: Pick a more interesting book next time.
Dean: (about Donna Reed) She seems happy.
Lorelai: She's medicated.
Rory: And acting from a script.
Lorelai: Written by a man.
Rory: Well said, Sister Suffragette.
Rory: What's in there?
Dean: A salad.
Rory: Salad?
Dean: Yeah, it's a quaint dish sometimes used to precede large quantities of pizza.
(Lorelai and Rory give him strange looks)
Dean: It's for me.
Rory: Clearly.
(Luke spots Dean outside the diner and walks to him)
Luke: Stop right there.
Dean: What?
Luke: Where are you going?
Dean: To get coffee.
Luke: Wrong.
Dean: Excuse me?
Luke: You're not going in there buddy.
Dean: What are you talking about?
Luke: Turn around bag boy.
Dean: Are you serious?
Luke: Do you see a smile on my face?
Dean: No but what's different about that?
Luke: What's that supposed to mean?
Dean: It's just that you're not exactly known as the town crack up.
Luke: So you're a smart guy now, huh?
Dean: What are you doing?
Luke: Just exercising my right not to serve you.
Lorelai: Hey, hey, hey, cut it out! Break it up! You back off! Come here! What do you think you're doing?!
Luke: He started it!
Lorelai: By doing what?
Luke: He was coming in.
Lorelai: Are you a lunatic! He's 16!
Luke: Well what was I supposed to do?!
Lorelai: Well stand in the middle of the street and have a slap fight of course! Come here!
Rory: (to Dean) Are you ok?
Dean: I'm fine.
Rory: Oh good, I don't know what got into Luke. He's usually so -
Dean: I have to go.
Rory: Oh sure, bye.
(Dean leaves, Lorelai grabs Luke as he wants to follow Dean)
Lorelai: Get inside now. Inside - now!
Luke: He started it.
Dean: So... that's your mom?
Lane: That's my mom.
Dean: Has she seen Patton?
Lane: She's just very uptight about boys.
Dean: I sensed something like that.
Lane: Don't take it personally.
Dean: I know, I'm sure once she gets to know me she'll...
Lane: No, she'll hate you forever. It's just nothing personal.
Dean: (Dean enters Kim's Antiques) Hello? Lane are you here?
Mrs. Kim: (Mrs. Kim pops out from behind a piece of furniture) Who are you? Why you call Lane? How you know her? You date her?
Dean: No.
Mrs. Kim: You try to?
Dean: No!
Mrs. Kim: Then why you here? Empty your pockets!
Dean: OK. I'm gonna go now.
Lane: Dean! Wait! Wait!
Mrs. Kim: Who's Dean?
Dean: I'm Dean.
Mrs. Kim: How you know Dean?
Lane: We go to school together.
Mrs. Kim: You do?
Dean: Yeah, we're science partners.
Mrs. Kim: (to Dean) You! Don't talk! (to Lane) Science partners?
Lane: Yes Mamma. I've invited him over to work.
Mrs. Kim: Work?
Lane: On our science project.
Mrs. Kim:(suspiciously) Reproduction?
Lane: Spores, molds and fungus.
Mrs. Kim: Science project?
Lane: Yes.
Mrs. Kim: For school? You're not dating?
Lane: No Mamma.
Mrs. Kim: Ok. Follow me.
(she leads them to the kitchen)
Mrs. Kim: (to Dean) You! Sit here! (to Lane) You! Sit here! I'm going there. When I come back these chairs will be in the same place. No moving! You understand? (she walks away but turns back to Lane and Dean) I see all!
Rory: God! You're like Ruth Gordon just standing there with the tannis root. Make a noise.
Dean: Rosemary's Baby.
Rory: Yeah.
Dean: Well, that's a great movie. You've got good taste. Are you moving?
Rory: No, just my books are.
