High school is supposed to be about content: AP terms, formulas, vocab, historical events. But let’s be honest—the things we actually remember are the quotes. The bizarre, out-of-pocket lines teachers drop mid-lesson that somehow tie into the curriculum, but sound like comedy sketches.

And no one embodies this better than my AP Psych teacher.

AP Psychology: “Meow meow meow—that’s what Ms. Kitty says in the morning.”

We were covering language acquisition when my teacher stopped mid-lecture and announced: “Meow meow meow—that’s what Ms. Kitty says in the morning.”

He then smiled and added: “Ms. Kitty does NOT know she’s alive! It’s great.”

Supposedly this was about animal communication and consciousness. The actual result? Ms. Kitty became a class icon, remembered less for neuroscience and more for her alleged lack of self-awareness. Ms. Kitty is also a real cat, my Psych teacher’s cat.

APUSH: “Imagine a short person comes up to you and says, ‘GIMME ALL YOUR MONEYY!’”

During a unit on robber barons and economic leverage, my teacher decided the best way to explain power dynamics was through crime theater. He hunched over, threw up his hands, and shouted: “Imagine a short person comes up to you and says, ‘GIMME ALL YOUR MONEYY!’”

Did it clarify monopolies? Weirdly, yes. Did it traumatize me with the image of being mugged by a five-foot-tall robber? Also yes.

Honors English: “NOO, I WANNA BE A POET!” (in a little girl’s voice)

Someone muttered that poetry was boring. Without missing a beat, my teacher pitched their voice two octaves higher and shrieked: “NOO, I WANNA BE A POET!”

The idea was to show passion in art. Instead, it turned English into an improv comedy class. Now every time I see O Captain! My Captain! I hear it in the voice of a whiny toddler.

AP Lang: “Get a job, you hippie.”

We were debating counterarguments in essays when someone asked if they were really necessary. My teacher slammed their hand on the desk and muttered: “Get a job, you hippie.”

Apparently this was about ethos—how tone affects credibility. But honestly? It sounded less like rhetoric and more like a personal attack.

Biology: “We need to send the frog ops a message.”

Dissection day. Someone joked that the frog was a spy. Without hesitation, the teacher leaned in and said: “We need to send the frog ops a message.”

This was supposed to lighten the mood. Instead, it gave us all the image of amphibian special forces plotting revenge. RIP frog ops, message received.

AP Psychology (again): “You ain’t gonna find this in no AP textbook.”

The closer. Mid-rant, my psych teacher jabbed at the board and declared: “You ain’t gonna find this in no AP textbook.”

And honestly? That one line explains his whole teaching style. Because between real Psych content, we also get:

• “Stop talking or I’m going to get angry.” (monotone, of course).
• “Whoever wrote these slides… not me… does NOT know what they’re talking about!!”
• (blasts bagpipe music for dramatic effect).
• “I may be weird, but I am not as weird as that lemonade.”

None of this will ever show up on an AP practice test. But it’s exactly what we’ll remember when the textbook details are long gone.

The Truth

That’s the magic of teacher quotes: they’re ridiculous, slightly concerning, but somehow still educational. They turn lectures into stories and make lessons unforgettable.

So no, you won’t find Ms. Kitty, frog ops, or robber baron muggings in an AP review book. But you will find them living rent-free in our heads. And honestly? That’s better than the textbook.