DAWN: Is she mad about the whole fire thing?
BUFFY: I think you sorta have a get-out-of-jail-free card on account of big love and trauma.
DAWN: Really? Okay. Good.
DAWN: You think she'd raise my allowance?
BUFFY: Don't push it.

SPIKE: Shouldn't you be tucked away in your beddy-bye? All warm and safe where nothing can eat you?
DAWN: Is that supposed to scare me?
SPIKE: Little tremble wouldn't hurt.
DAWN: Sorry, it's just ... come on. I'm badder than you.
SPIKE: Are not!
DAWN: Am too. You're standing in the bushes hugging a bent box of chocolates, and I'm-
SPIKE: What? Sneaking out to braid hair and watch Teletubbies with your mates?

BUFFY: You were right. This is my fault. I should have told her.
SPIKE: Look, she probably would have skipped off anyway, even if she never found out. She's not just a blob of energy, she's also a fourteen-year-old hormone bomb. Which one's screwing her up more right now, spin the bloody wheel. You'll find her, just in the nick of time, that's what you hero types do.

WILLOW: This is exactly what you need. A 20th birthday party with, with, with presents, and funny hats, and, and those candles that don't blow out... (whispers to Tara) Those used to scare me.
TARA: Me too.

GLORY: Never send a minion to do a god's work.

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