Xander: Well, how about this: we whip out the Ouija board, light a few candles, summon some ancient unstoppable evil? Mayhem, mayhem, mayhem; we show up and and kick its ass.
Giles: A wee bit unethical.
The Initiative
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Willow: When I’m with a boy I like I can’t say anything cool, or witty–or at all. I can usually make a few vowel sounds, and then I have to go away.
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Giles: I can’t believe you served Buffy that beer.
Xander: I didn’t know it was evil.
Giles: You knew it was beer.
Xander: Well, excuse me, Mr. ‘I spent the sixties in an electric-kool-aid-funky-Satan groove.’
Giles: It was the early seventies and you should know better.
Xander: I’m not gonna waste the perfect comeback on you now. But don’t think I don’t have it. Oh yes, it’s time will come!
Xander: Giles lived for school. He’s actually still bitter that there are only twelve grades.
Buffy: He probably sat in math class thinking, ‘There should be more math. This could be mathier.’
Buffy: I was just thinking about the life of a pumpkin. Grow up in the sun, happily entwined with others, and then someone comes along, cuts you open, and rips your guts out.
Fear, Itself