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Dawson: All right, so let me get this straight. Movie night has been reduced to the following: (to Jen) You can't stay if she leaves because your grandmother wouldn't permit it. And you can't stay if she stays because it's awkward.
Jen: Yeah.
Dawson: (to Joey) And you can't stay if she leaves because you feel like you've driven her away. And you can't stay if she's here because it ruins Movie Night for you.
Joey: Well put.
Dawson: Well since this is my house and we assume that I can't go anywhere, according to my calculations, that only leaves one option.
Jen and Joey: 'Night Dawson.

Bessie: Did you know the average gestation period for the fruit bat is two months? Two months! That's fair. That's reasonable. Why can't I give birth to a fruit bat?

Mrs. Ryan: In my house we don't ogle naked men.
Jen: No, we pray to 'em, right?

Dawson: Look Pacey, granted this is not good, but this is in your hands. You can control this now.
Pacey: This is the wrong time for the Obi-Wan moment, Dawson.

Joey: Hey jailbait.

Joey: I didn't know you had an appointment today.
Bessie: Oh, I don't. In fact my next appointment isn't until my due date on the 22nd, but my hunch is I'll probably have to reschedule.
Joey: Why?
Bessie: Because I'm fairly certain I'm in labor.

Joey: Don't worry Bessie, I'll get us there.
Bessie: At the rate you're goin', Joey, the two of us is gonna be the three of us.

Joey: Oh my God, Bessie, the boat's leaking.
Bessie: It's not the boat Joey.

Joey: No time to talk Dawson, my sister's having her baby.
Dawson: Oh, congratulations.
Joey: On your lawn.

Bessie: One hospital with one ambulance and no doctor within 30 miles. Another of the hidden joys of livin' in the middle of nowhere.

Bessie: Listen you sorry-ass civil servant, this is the mother to be talking. Maybe I'm not in the tax bracket that guarantees a prompt response to medical distress, but I have a shoe full of amniotic fluid and my pelvis is beating like a bromba bat, and I'm in serious danger of having my first child delivered by two high school students. So why don't you stop making excuses? Get off your oversized backside and get us an ambulance before my fetus enters college!

Doug: C'mon Pacey, why don't you give me a glimpse into the inner workings here, huh? What was the rationale? Boredom? Or just a classic cry for attention?
Pacey: Well actually no, you know what? I thought it was up to me to let this town know that at least one person in our family was having heterosexual sex.

Mrs. Ryan: Thank you Josephine.
Joey: It's Joey actually.
Bessie: No, it's Judas actually

Pacey: Look at me. Here I am, a C+ student who sits in the back of Miss Jacobs' English class every day daydreaming about the same thing. About what it would be like to be a little better looking, a little more sophisticated, and about 15 years older. 'Cause then and only then could Miss Jacobs possibly look at me as anything other than just another one of her students. And only then could this rumor stand any chance of being true. I mean don't get me wrong, I'm real flattered with the seriousness that you took these allegations but you know personally, I'd always just kinda chalked 'em up to adolescent fantasy. I kind of expected you guys to do the same.

Tamara: Douglas? It's Miss Jacobs.

Tamara: I meant us ending was inevitable. Hey, maybe you'd graduate. Maybe I'd meet someone my own age. God, maybe you'd meet someone your own age.

Tamara: I'm 36 years old and I want to have children before it's too late. I mean I want to be their mother, not their girlfriend.