Xander: A visit from the pointed-tooth fairy.
Xander: Y'know, I think there may be a valuable lesson for you gals here about inviting strange men into your bedrooms.
Buffy: Giles, there has to be some sort of spell to reverse the invitation, right? Like a barrier, a no shoes, no pulse, no service kind of thing?
Xander: Does this look like a Barnes & Noble?
Giles: This is a school library, Xander.
Xander: Since when?
Giles: Yes, Xander, once more you've managed to boil a complex thought down to its simplest possible form.
Xander: Watcher's pet.
Buffy: Willow, I thought I might take in a class. Figured I could use someone who knows where they are.
Giles: Uh, since Angel lost his soul, he's regained his sense of whimsy.
Willow: I swear, men can be such jerks sometimes. Dead or alive.
Buffy: It's so weird... Every time something like this happens, my first instinct is still to run to Angel. I can't believe it's the same person. He's completely different from the guy that I knew.
Willow: Well, sort of, except...
Buffy: Except what?
Willow: You're still the only thing he thinks about.
Angelus: Well, maybe next time I'll bring you with me, Spike. Might be handy to have you around if I ever need a really good parking space.
Jenny: A present for a friend of mine.
Shopkeeper: Really? What are you gonna give him?
Jenny: His soul.
Willow: We had kind of a 'pajama party sleepover with weapons' thing.
Xander: Oh. And I don't suppose either of you had the presence of mind to locate a camera to capture the moment.
Willow: Ira Rosenberg's only daughter nailing crucifixes to her bedroom wall? I have to go over to Xander's house just to watch 'A Charlie Brown Christmas' every year.
Angelus: I haven't been able to sleep since the night we made love.
Buffy: Sorry, Angel. Changed the locks.
Angelus: I heard. You went shopping at the local boogedy-boogedy store.
Angelus: Oh, my cure? No, thanks. Been there, done that, and deja vu just isn't what it used to be.
Angelus: Oh, good. I need to work up an appetite first.
Buffy: Yeah. He was the first. I mean, the only.
Joyce: Are you in love with him?
Buffy: I was.
Willow: Look, all his weapons are gone.
Cordelia: But I thought he kept his weapons at the library.
Xander: No, those are his, uh, everyday weapons. These were his good weapons. The ones he, uh, breaks out when company comes to visit.
Xander: I'm sorry, but let's not forget that I hated Angel long before you guys jumped on the bandwagon. So I think I deserve a little something for not saying 'I told you so' long before now. And if Giles wants to go after the, uh, fiend that murdered his girlfriend, I say, 'Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!'
Spike: Are you insane?! We're supposed to kill the bitch, not leave gag gifts in her friends' beds.
Drusilla: But, Spike, the bad teacher was going to restore Angel's soul.
Spike: What if she did? If you ask me, I find myself preferring the old Buffy-whipped Angelus. This new, improved one is not playing with a full sack. I love a good slaughter as much as the next bloke, but his little pranks will only leave us with one incredibly brassed-off Slayer!
Angelus: Don't worry, roller boy. I've got everything under control.
Angelus: Jeez, whatever happened to wooden stakes?
Buffy: I can't hold on to the past anymore. Angel is gone. Nothing's ever gonna bring him back.
