Me and Earl and the Dying Girl

Greg:
We make films. We've been making them since we were little...

Greg:
Ugh, tests... I've been there.

Earl:
Dude, where you at? Imma gonna eat your squid

Earl:
You gonna play with them titties?

Greg:
One last thing. Hot girls destroy your life. That's just a fact.

Limo Driver:
So you love this girl?

Greg:
Uh, no. I wouldn't go that far.

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.

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:
I'm ugly, Greg! Everyone feels like they have to lie to me and no one realizes how insulting that is. Everyone thinks they're helping, and they're not."

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.

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.

Denise:
I was a good mom to her, you know? Some single moms their kids grow up too fast, but I always tried to protect Rachel from that. I did my very best to protect her from growing up too quickly, you know?"

Greg:
We, uh, we make films.

Rachel:
Movies?

Greg:
Yeah, we've been making them for a few years now.

Greg:
Summer. What does that word even mean, right? More "summ." Winter, same deal. More "wint"?

Rachel:
So you and Greg are coworkers?

Earl:
Naw, we just friends. He just hates calling people his friend. Dude's got issues.

Rachel:
Yeah, he does. What's going on?

Earl:
Man, I don't even know. It might be his folks. I mean, dude's mom always tellin' him how handsome he is, which he ain't. So now he think he can't trust anybody close to him. Dude's weird-ass dad don't socialize with anybody 'cept the cat. So that's a role model ain't got no friends. Bottom line, dude's terrified of callin' somebody his friend...

Greg:
We're on drugs.

Earl:
Oh sh*t!

Rachel:
Why are you on drugs?

Greg:
Is that a black power salute?

Rachel:
No, I was going in for a fist bump.

Greg:
I can't fist bump you from up here.

Rachel:
Yeah, I realize that.

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.

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!

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 sh*t about you, Greg! All right? Nobody gives a sh*t.

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:
Can I put some flowers on you?

Rachel:
Dear Pittsburgh State Admissions, I'm writing on behalf of someone who gave me half a year of his life at the time when I was at my most difficult to be around. He has a very low opinion of himself, which is why I think it's necessary that you hear from someone who sees him as he actually is: A limitlessly kind, sweet, giving, and genuine person. No matter how much he would deny it. The drop in his academic performance this year is the consequence of all the time he spent with me and the time he spent making things for me and how hard that was for him. You can ask him about it, but his sort of over the top humility will probably get in the way. No one has done more to make me smile than he has. And no one ever could.