Angel: Buffy! You scared me.
Buffy: Now you know what it feels like, Stealth Guy.

Buffy: Uh, we're having this thing at school.
Angel: Career week?
Buffy: How did you know?
Angel: I lurk.

Buffy: The Cliff Notes version? I want a normal life. Like I had before.
Angel: Before me.
Buffy: No, Angel, it's not you. You're the one freaky thing in my freaky world that still makes sense to me. I just get messed sometimes. I wish we could be regular kids.
Angel: Yeah. I'll never be a kid.
Buffy: Okay, then a regular kid and her cradle robbing, creature-of-the-night boyfriend.

Xander: 'Are you a people person, or do you prefer keeping your own company?' Well, what if I'm a people person who keeps his own company by default?
Buffy: So, mark 'none of the above'.
Xander: Well, there are no boxes for 'none of the above'. That would introduce too many variables into their mushroom head, number-crunching little world.

Xander: What, and suck all the spontaneity out of being young and stupid? I'd rather live in the dark.
Willow: You're not gonna be young forever.
Xander: Yes, but I'll always be stupid.

Xander: Y'know, with that kind of attitude you could've had a bright future as an employee at the DMV.

Cordelia: Oh, here I am. 'Personal shopper or motivational speaker.' Neato!
Xander: Motivational speaker? On what? Ten ways to a more annoying you?

Buffy: Color *me* stunned.

Snyder: It's worth nothing, Harris. Whatever comes out of your mouth is a meaningless waste of breath. An airborne toxic event.
Xander: Well, I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to be so honest with me. And I can only hope that one day I'm in the position to be that honest with you.

Buffy: You know why? I *am* immature. I'm a teen. I have yet to mature.

Buffy: Note to self: religion: freaky.

Xander: So, why go to all the trouble of inventing something, and then giving it a weak name like that? I mean, I'da gone with 'The Cross-o- matic', or, uh, 'The Amazing Mr. Cross'.

Xander: But Ho-Hos are a vital part of my cognitive process!

Xander: No, it's a statistical impossibility for a sixteen-year-old girl to unplug her phone.

Willow: You and Angel are going skating? Alone?
Buffy: Unless some unforeseen evil pops up. But I'm in full 'see no evil' mode.
Willow: Angel ice-skating.
Buffy: I know. Two worlds collide.

Dalton: Uh, yes, but... The Order of Taraka, I mean... isn't that overkill?
Spike: No, I think it's just enough kill.

Buffy: The Hellmouth presents: Dead Guys On Ice. Not exactly the evening we were aiming for.
Angel: You're in danger. You know what the ring means?
Buffy: I just killed a Super Bowl champ?
Angel: I'm serious! You should go home and wait until you hear from me.

Angel: You shouldn't have to touch me when I'm like this.
Buffy: Oh. I didn't even notice.

Angel: Sure you are, Willy. And I'm taking up sunbathing.

Angel: You know, I'm a little rusty when it comes to killing humans. It could take a while.