Daria Halprin: Daria

Zabriskie Point

Daria

Daria: You want some smoke?
Mark: You know, you're taking to a guy under discipline.
Daria: What's that?
Mark: Dope, I guess. But, this group I was in had rules against smoking. They were into a reality trip.
Daria: What a drag!

Daria: What do you mean, reality trip? Oh, yeah, they can't imagine things. Were you in with that group? Why didn't you get out?
Mark: I wasn't really in a group. I just couldn't stand their bullshit talk. It really bored the hell out of me. But when it gets down to it, you have to choose one side or the other.
Daria: There's a thousand sides--not just heroes and villains.

Kid: [Daria walks onto a large wooden platform to question a group of kids. The elementary-school-aged kids quickly surround her. One of the boys, about 10 years old, asks Daria a question] Can we have a piece of ass?
Daria: Are you sure you'd know what to do with it?

Daria: What do you do besides fly airplanes?
Mark: Only yesterday I drove a forklift truck at a warehouse. I've done other things.
Daria: Been to college?
Mark: Some.
Daria: Why'd you leave? Grades?
Mark: Extracurricular activities.
Daria: Like what?
Mark: Like stealing hardcover books instead of paperbacks, making phone calls on the Chancellor's stolen credit-card number, whistling in class--and bringing illegal things on campus, like a dog, a bike, and a woman.

Daria: Pretend your thoughts are like plants.
Mark: Okay.
Daria: What do you see? Neat rows? Like a garden? Or wild things? Like ferns and weeds and vines?
Mark: I see, sort of, the jungle.

Daria: It would be nice if they could plant thoughts in our head so, nobody would have bad memories. We could plant, you know, wonderful things we did--like a happy childhood, real groovy parents, only good things.
Mark: Yeah, and make out and forget how terrible it really was.
Daria: That's the point! Nothing's terrible!
Mark: Far out.

Daria: So anyway. So anyway.
Mark: What?
Daria: So anyway--ought to be one word. The name of some place or a river. The So-Anyway River.

Daria: Tbe radio said somebody stole a plane in L.A. this morning. Did you really steal that thing? How come?
Mark: I needed to get off the ground.

Daria: I'm looking for a little town that sounds like Glenville or Ballyville or something like that. Something with a "ville" in it. You know the desert. Does that ring a bell?
Lee Allen: A vi, a ville? What a minute. Hold on. A ville? What do you mean? Like a Danville?
Daria: Somewhere in the desert, man. Danville's in Connecticut. Or, maybe it's "hill".

Lee Allen: Well, what do you want to go to a town you don't know the name of for? Have you got somebody to meet?
Daria: My friend said it's a fantastic place for meditation.
Lee Allen: What do you do on a meditation?
Daria: You think about things.

Daria: [reading the information marker at "Zabriskie Point"] "This is an area of ancient lake beds deposited five to ten million years ago. These beds have been tilted and pushed upward by Earth forces, and eroded by wind and water. They contain borates and gypsum." Borates and gypsum?

Mark: Hear any news about the strike?
Daria: Not much. I prefer music.
Mark: It's getting like they don't even report it unless two or three hundred people get hurt.
Daria: Yeah, some kind of record.
Mark: Or a cop.
Daria: Oh, a cop did get killed and some bushes were trampled. I was trying to find a rock station. I think they said the guy who killed the cop was white.
Mark: Oo, white man takin' up arms for Bhe blacks, huh? Just like old John Brown.

Daria: Did you hear that the Mexican air force is bombing the grass along the border?
Mark: I wonder what else is going on in the rest of the world?

Daria: [returning the shirt he tossed out of the plane] Thanks for the nightie, but I don't think I can use it.
Mark: How come? Wrong color?