Buffy: I spend all my time in the dark here anyway, it’s not like I’d be at a game you know, with my friends where someone could see me in my new monster part.
Angel: Hey…I won’t let anything happen to you if I can help it, and no matter what I’ll love you even if you’re covered with slime.
Buffy: I liked everything until that part.

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Anya: You don’t need me. All you care about is lots of orgasms.
Xander: Okay, remember how we talked about private conversations? How they’re less private when they’re in front of my friends?
Spike: Oh, we’re not your friends; go on.

Spike: Sometimes I like to crumble the Weetabix in the blood. Gives it a little texture.
Giles: Since the picture you just painted means that I will never touch food of any kind again, you’ll just have to pick it up yourself.
Spike: Sissy.

Faith: You can’t trust guys.
Buffy: You can trust some guys. Really, I’ve read about them.

Xander: Well, ’cause you never know if a girl’s gonna say yes or if she’s gonna laugh in your face and pull out your still-beating heart and crush it into the ground with her heel.

Giles: There is a certain dramatic irony attached to all this. A synchronicity that borders on predestination, one might say.
Buffy: Fire bad. Tree pretty.

Graduation Day, Part 2