SPIKE: Morning, sunshine. If you've come around for eggs or sausage, I'm fresh out.

DAWN: I'm not an idiot. I know you're talking about me.
XANDER: No, no, we really weren't.
ANYA: We were talking about sex.

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: Teleportation spell. Still working out the kinks.
BUFFY: Where'd you send her?
WILLOW: Don't know. That's one of the kinks.

SPIKE: Brown-robe types are always protecting something. It's the only way they can justify giving up girls.

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