Cordelia: You have so much to learn little Irish man.
Angel: It's complicated how this all happened Buffy, you know? It's kinda a long story.
Buffy: Your new sidekick had a vision, I was in it, you came to Sunnydale?
Angel: Ok. Maybe not that long.
Buffy: It was rude. We should go kill it.
Angel: I am...so hungry.
Cordelia: Look out! He's going to eat...everything in sight!
Angel: I love chocolate! Arrh! But not, as it turns out, yogurt. Yeugg!
Doyle: I'll finally be free to go out and make me own mark in the world.
Cordelia: We had a cat that used to do that.
Cordelia Chase: See? You can save the damsel *and* make great money. Is this a great country, or what?
Doyle: Hey, let's march down to the bank right now and deposit this beauty.
Angel: You guys go on. I think I'll stay here and *not* burst into flames.
Doyle: Oh, right, you're pretty much the night-deposit guy.
Spike: "You were my sire, man! You were my...Yoda!"
Buffy: Who are you?
Angel: Let's just say, I'm a friend.
Buffy: Yeah, maybe I don't want a friend.
Angel: I didn't say I was yours.
Xander: I laugh in the face of danger. Then I hide until it goes away.
Xander: To read makes our speaking English good.
Willow: Xander, wanna stay and help me?
Xander: Are you kidding?
Willow: Yes, it was a joke I made up.
Buffy: Are you crazy? You just don't sneak up on people in a graveyard. You make noise when you walk, you stomp, or... yodel.
Oz: I can see why you would be upset. Oh, that was my sarcastic voice.
Xander: You know, it sounds a lot like your regular voice.
Oz: I've been told that.
Willow: I mean, why else would she be acting like such a b-i-t-c-h?
Giles: Willow, I think we're a little too old to be spelling things out.
Xander: A "bitca"?
Xander: I don't get your crazy system!
Giles: It's called the alphabet.
Xander: Would ya look at that.
Anya: What a day. Gimme a beer.
[Anya glares at him.]
Anya: I'm eleven hundred and twenty years old! Just gimme a frickin' beer!
Anya: [sigh] Gimme a Coke.
Spike: Ahhhh, my head. I think I'm sobering up. It's horrible. Ah... God... I wish I was dead.
Xander: You're considered somewhat cool.
Oz: I am?
Xander: Is it because you always tend to express yourself in short, non-commital sentences?
Oz: Could be.
Xander: The mayor is gonna kill us all during graduation.
Cordelia: Oh. Are you gonna go to fifth period?
Xander: I'm thinking I might skip it.
Cordelia: Yeah. Me too.