Riverdale – Series Quotes

Betty, you know me. Any excuse to wear a cute party dress.

But I'm not lying about what happened to me. And Ethel's not lying. And proof or no proof, book or no book, I am going scorched earth on these privileged, despicable miscreants. You wanna get caught in that backdraft, Cheryl? Call me, or any of these beautiful, young, strong, intelligent women... slut. One. More. Time.

You may not live on the Southside anymore, you may not dress like you're from the Southside, but we both know the truth. Snakes don't shed their skin so easily.

– I'm messed up, Veronica...
– We all are, Archie. And, honestly, you less than most.

– A little sage, to banish the evil spirits.
– Mom...
– I'm not joking, Betty. That family is pure evil. I'm wondering if the Blossoms didn't kill Jason themselves. Sacrificed him to some dark pagan god that they worship in that insane mansion of theirs.

Guilt, innocence. Good, evil. Life, death. As the shadows around Riverdale deepened. The lines that separated these polar opposites blurred and distorted.

Nana has dementia and gypsy blood.

You catatonic bimbos didn't even vote. So you stuttering sapheads are too dim to exercise your own rights, and you've got the combined vocabulary of a baked potato. Consider this your last practice as River Vixens, and your last week as my social handmaidens. You're fired on all fronts. That's all. Shoo, bitches.

I don't follow rules, I make them, and when necessary — I crake them!

When my father got arrested, it was the worst thing ever. All these... trolls started writing horrible things about us. We'd get letters and e-mails saying that my dad was a thief, my mom was a clueless socialite, and I was the spoiled rich-bitch ice princess. And what hurt the most about it was... the things the trolls were writing... were true. I was like Cheryl. I was worse than Cheryl. So, when my mom said we were moving to Riverdale, I made a pact with myself to use this as an opportunity to become maybe, hopefully, a better version of myself.

What makes a place feel like home? Is it warmth and familiarity? Some idealized, make-believe TV-version of the American dream? Is it love and acceptance? Or is it simple safety? Or it's none of those things. And it's a place where the captain of the football team is murdered. Or maybe it's just a forgotten closet under a well-trod staircase, where it's just you and the mice and the spiders, like an extra in a Wes Craven movie.

You're still hot, Alice. Too bad you're a stick in the mud.

Do you know why we're called the Pussycats? Because we have to claw our way into the same rooms that you can just waltz into.

– Do you ever wonder... what if you had done things differently? What if you had made different choices?
– What do you mean, different choices?
– Every day I wonder, what if I had left Riverdale with my mom? Would things be... Would I be better off?
– I can't answer that, Archie. But we wouldn't have met, and... that would've been a tragedy of epic proportions.