Wesley: She's either counting oxygen molecules or analyzing the petri dish she just put into her mouth. Or sleeping - I can never quite tell.
Angel: You sure this was a good idea?
Wesley: Oh, we have plenty of petri dishes.
Wesley: She's my responsibility.
Angel: She's our responsibility, and if she's gonna be here, there are things that we should be doing. Testing her powers, studying her. ...
she put a whole petri dish in her mouth?
Wesley: Testing her might be hard without getting someone seriously hurt.
Angel: We'll make Spike do it.
Wesley: Good.
Wesley: She doesn't understand our world. She needs someone to guide her. She needs--
Angel: When was the last time you slept? You're not her savior. I need you here, working, not off drinking yourself into a coma, chasing ghosts. Fred's dead, Wes. You're still alive. Start acting like it.
Angel: We don't have time to be dealing with small stuff like this.
Wesley: "Small stuff"? This is what we do, or what we're supposed to do. They need help, and they seem like good people.
Angel: All the more reason to get them out of here. We know what this place does to good people.
Illyria (to Wesley): You reek of frustration. Curls off of you like smoke.
Spike: Actually, luv, we call that Scotch. Twelve-year Lagavulin, if I'm not mistaken. Good choice.
Spike: Old Broody Pants got you wound up, eh? Keep in mind, he can't get laid without maybe going crazy. Makes it funny.
Illyria: In my time, a leader would punish your insolence with death.
Wesley: We're not being insolent, Illyria.
Spike: *I* am.
Angel (in Hamilton's face): Tell you what. Why don't you just tell me?
Hamilton (in a menacing tone): Let's be clear about this: things run differently now. I'm not a little girl, and you and I won't be making love on this couch any time soon.
[His tone lightens.] Now with that in mind, how can I help you?
Angel: You're taking this pretty well.
Connor: What am I supposed to do, complain? I just don't know how I'm gonna explain it to my parents. You got family?
Angel: No.
Spike: So far, I've established that she can hit like a Mack truck, selectively alter the flow of time, and . . . possibly talk to plants.
Illyria (to Angel): I'd like to keep Spike as my pet.
Connor: I guess I've always had a thing for older women.
Angel (under his breath): They were supposed to fix that.
Angel: What do we know about him?
Lorne: He's powerful. Heads up a large demon empire. Has tendrils stretching throughout L.A.
Angel: Tendril tendrils?
Lorne: Metaphor tendrils.
Vail: Did you kill all of my guards?
Angel: All the ones I could find.
Vail: Mmm. I should have given them the day off.
Connor: You gonna hold Sahjhan down while I stab him?
Angel: Prophecy doesn't say you can't have a little help.
Connor: Hardly seems fair.
Angel: Fair is not something we worry about.
Connor: Maybe you should.
Illyria: The world is as it is.
Wesley: Not necessarily.
Illyria: You are a summation of recollections. Each change is simply a point of experience.
Wesley: We are more than just memories.
Illyria: And yet Fred changed the moment her memory did.
Wesley: Can you see what they were before?
Illyria: No. They're gone. Does this change your view of Fred? Is she still the person you thought she was?
Wesley (reads the contract that Angel signed): No. None of us are.
Sahjhan: Thank you, mortal, for releasing me from my cursed prison. In gratitude, I grant you three wishes.
Connor: Really?
Sahjhan: Nah. I'm just messing with you.
Connor: That really hurt!
Sahjhan: Did it?
Connor: Yeah.
Sahjhan: I'm sorry. Do you need to call a time out?
Sahjhan: You know, I've had a long time to plan for this moment. I figured you'd be a lot more . . . intimidating.
Connor: Yeah. Well, I figured I was going to Tony Roma's with my folks tonight, but I'm here. Learn to cope.
Wesley: You sold us out to Wolfram & Hart.
Angel: Be careful.
Wesley: Is this your thirty pieces of silver?
Angel: Wes, give me that.
Illyria (sends Angel flying across the room): He doesn't follow you any longer.
Angel: No. It won't bring her back.
Wesley: Let's find out.
[He moves to break the glass cube.]
Angel: No! Please, you have to trust me.
Wesley: I can't. Not anymore.
Connor: This whole fighting thing . . . I'm not really sure it's for me.
Illyria: You betrayed Angel. You stole his son. He tried to kill you.
Wesley: Yes.
Illyria: Are these the memories you needed back? Does this now make you Wesley?
Connor: I've gotta go back to my life now.
Angel: Do you really have to leave? Right now?
Connor: I kinda think I should. I need to take care of my parents. This isn't their world - they really don't feel safe here.
You gotta do what you can to protect your family. [He gives Angel a meaningful look.] I learned that from my father.
