Angel: Why would she take on any risk for us?
Wesley: I doubt this poses a risk to her. She has the power of a god.
Angel: She has the ego of a god.
Wesley: I stabbed you. I should apologize for that, but I'm honestly not sure how. I think it'll just be awkward.
Gunn: Good call.
Wesley: She's monumentally self-possessed. She still thinks she's the god-king of the universe.
Gunn: So she's like a TV star.
Wesley: No, nothing that bad. Bit more violent, though.
Illryia: This shell. You had affection for it. For Fred.
Spike: Tons. Loved the bird.
Illryia: Yet you strike at her form without sentiment.
Spike: You ain't her.
Illryia: When the world met me, it shuddered, groaned. It knelt at my feet.
Spike (mocking): "Dear Penthouse, I don't normally write letters like this, but--"
Angel: You have to stop these sessions.
Spike: Now hang on - I'm just now getting into it. Testing her has sharpened technique I didn't even know was rusty.
Angel: We're not testing her, Spike. She's testing us.
Wesley: The thousand-year war of good versus evil is well under way.
Angel: Evil just hasn't told anyone about it yet, which is probably why they're winning.
Lorne (about Hamilton): Well, I'll tell you what: I still like him better than Eve.
Wesley: You don't look altogether well.
Illryia: Your opinion of me weighs less than sunlight.
Angel: We haven't done anything to you.
Illryia: Jealous. Plankton envying the ocean that holds them.
Angel: Yeah, that's great. Listen, I've got things--
Wesley: She's going to self-destruct. Violently, and soon.
Angel: And you were gonna tell me this when?
Wesley: I wasn't. Spike and I were dealing with it.
Spike: So, what sort of damage are we lookin' at if Illyria Chernobyls on us?
Wesley: Conservative guess, several city blocks.
Angel: And what about unconservative?
Wesley: Rand and McNally will have to redraw their maps.
Illryia: How did you worms accomplish this?
Angel: We didn't. We - accomplish what?
Illryia: You ripped me out of linear progression, tore my time line into shreds, and stitched it back together out of sequence!
Angel: Are you KIDDING?!
Angel: Will you just shut up for once?!
Illryia: What?
Angel: My god, the speechifying - has it ever occurred to you that now might not be the best time for when-we-were-muck stories?
Angel (to Illyria): I know what happens. I know you kill us all.
Spike: A bit pessimistic, aren't you?
Illryia: You ask me to allow you to murder me.
Spike (brightly): It's not murder if you say yes.
Wesley: No one is murdering you. This device won't kill you.
Angel: What? You said--
Wesley: I lied.
Angel: Wes, I don't like where this is going; I don't like where this has been.
Wesley: I'm not in love with this thing, Angel. But . . . for some reason, I need it right now.
Angel: Yeah. That's just weird.
