Kim: You know, for what it's worth, I hope things work out with you, Tommy, and Kasey.
Dean: You mean Cory and Keisa?
Kim: Yeah, them.
Dean: You don't even know my friends' names?
Kim: I-I do. Cory, Keisa, and... Fred, the one who died last year.
Dean: Fred was my turtle.
Kim: Oh. I thought he was one of your buddies from school.
Dean: And you didn't say anything for a whole year?!
Kim: Ugh!

Bill: So, who gonna be there?
Kim: Mildred, Vesta... Kwame X.
Bill: Kwame X? What kind of stupid-ass militant name is that? His name is Albert. Albert. And you're not going.

Brad: [raises hand] Uh... I'm sad about Mr. King's death, too.
Mrs. Hodges: Nice try, Brad. You already got out of eight days of homework last Hanukkah.

Dean: You like fishing, huh?
Bill: I love it.
Dean: But you don't eat fish.
Bill: Hate it. Think about all those fish out there under the surface that we can't see. They have no idea what's going on here, above the water. They don't even care. Their life is simple. They don't have to wonder why bad things happen to good people or why there's so much hatred in the world or why, for some people, life may never be fair. Nope. They have no idea. Maybe that's why I like to fish.

Adult Dean: That's when it hit me. My dad was actually wrestling with the very concerns he thought I'd been wrestling with this whole time.
Bill: Okay. It's getting late.
Adult Dean: I wanted to tell him what was really bothering me because I knew it would put his mind at ease. But I was too embarrassed to confess my stupid, silly troubles to a grown man with real ones.
Dean: Oh!
Bill: Hey! [laughing] Hey! You got one. [laughs] All right, take it slow. Take it slow.
Adult Dean: And in that moment, my dad wasn't a Black man in Alabama in 1968 or a father worried about his kids.
Bill: Keep the rod up. There you go.
Adult Dean: He was just a man fishing. [Bill laughs] That's when I understood everything he didn't know how to say. I had a brilliant spark of inspiration that fueled me to write all night.

Dean: And as I've taken you through the entire life of Dr. King, from his seminary days in Boston to his Poor People's Campaign, I summarize with this. Dr. King is like the fish my dad caught. And Black people are like my dad. We don't eat the fish. No. We appreciate what the fish taught us and try to live our lives just like he did. [applause]
Adult Dean: Okay, in hindsight, it was pretty ham-fisted and forced, but to a 12-year-old, it was brilliant.

Mrs. Anderson: Dean? May I speak to you? [Dean walks to the front of the class] It's not like you to get a "C." Do you have an explanation? [Dean sighs] Maybe it was unfair of me to expect you to study. This must be such a difficult time for your people. Let's just go ahead and make this one an "A."
Adult Dean: Wait. What's this, now?
Dean: Y- You mean... 'cause of Dr. King?
Mrs. Anderson: You must feel so... lost.
Adult Dean: Now, I knew that taking advantage of the tragic death of the greatest civil-rights icon in history was inappropriate, but I'd just gotten my heart broken for the first time. Give me a break.
Dean: So lost. But this helps.
Mrs. Anderson: Does this help, too? [hugs Dean]
Dean: [whispers] Yes.

Coach Wright: All the way to the top. And go.
Dean: I don't think I can. Not since Martin Luther King never made it to the mountaintop.
Coach Wright: It's all right, son. I'll give you a pass to see the guidance counselor.
[later, Dean is reading a magazine and eating candy as he sits on a couch outside the guidance counselor's office:]
Guidance Counselor: The gym teacher said you might need to talk.
Dean: Nah, I'm good. You might want to freshen these, though. [shakes jar]

Adult Dean: The weekend after April 4, 1968, Black people all over the country attended memorial services for Dr. King. It was a time where, just like in life, he brought people together of all races to mourn our country's great loss. To those of us in Montgomery, where his civil-rights career began, it was a particularly difficult time.
Choir: ♪ His eye ♪ ♪ Is on the sparrow ♪ ♪ And I know He watches me ♪ ♪ Watches me ♪
Adult Dean: Families from our neighborhood gathered together to memorialize the great man. He was an idol. He was respected. He was eloquent. [laughing] He was gorgeous. [Dean is smiling as he looks at Keisa] He looked great in a black dress and stockings. S-Snap out of it, man. This isn't the time or place for looking at girls. This is a memorial for a hero, a noble man, a martyr. [Dean sees Cory sitting next to Keisa] A lying, conniving snake in the grass who'd kiss the girl you've loved since second grade behind your back! I couldn't help it. In spite of this solemn moment, all I was thinking about was seeing Keisa kissing my best friend. Please let there be a lesson from the pastor's words that will help me.
Pastor: Let us not give in to anger or revenge...
Woman: [o.s.] Yes.
Pastor: ...but remember the words of Dr. King himself... "Forgive those who inflict evil and injury upon us."
Adult Dean: Nope. Nothing. This is torture. But I guess it could have been worse. At least they weren't rubbing it in my face, being all lovey-dovey and holding hands.
Pastor: Everyone, please, take your neighbor's hand and pray.
[Dean sees Cory take Keisa's hand]
Dean: [shouts] Why, God, why?! [congregation murmuring]
Lillian: He's just a little sensitive.
Adult Dean: While Cory got to caress Keisa's soft, supple hand, I was stuck next to someone who looked like he'd been at Lincoln's memorial.
Dean: [to himself] Be strong. It'll be over soon.
Pastor: Let us all rise and sing the Negro National Anthem. [organ playing "Lift Every Voice And Sing"] You gotta be kidding me.
Adult Dean: Ugh! Why did songs about oppression have to be so long?

Adult Dean: I could see that Kim didn't want to show how scared she was. She wanted to impress Kwame and everybody there.
Dean: [coughing] Kim... [coughs] ... I have to go home. I forgot my medicine. [coughs]
Kim: Oh. Yeah. Dean needs his medicine for...
Dean: For... For my asthma.
Kim: Right. You have that asthma.
Kwame: Man, I told you not to bring the little sissy in the first place.
Dean: Hey, I'm not a si...
Kim: He is not a sissy. He was brave enough to come here. Now, are you gonna drive us home or what? [off Kwame's look] Forget it. Don't. We'll walk. Come on, Dean.
[After Kim and Dean walk out, Dean walks back to the room]
Dean: Hey! His real name... is Albert.