Groo: Ah, yes, movies -- talking pictures with no substance.
Lorne: Last couple of decades? You're not wrong.
 
Groo: Hello. We welcome your telephonic plea to Angel Investigations. In what way may I service you?
Lorne: You're a very pretty man.
 
Groo: He is very fortunate to have such a woman looking after his weapon.
Lorne: I'm not touchin' that one.
 
Groo: Hail to you, potential client. How may I be of service?
 
Fred: Gunn and I found your notes about...the baby. The prophecy. You took him away 'case you thought Angel was gonna kill him. You were trying to protect him. Both of them. I just wanted you to know I understand that. I also wanted to say -- what Angel tried to do to you was wrong, and I'm sorry. But he was right to blame you, Wesley. You should've come to us. You should've trusted us instead of going to Holtz behind our backs. You were supposed to be our friend and you didn't even -- If Angel sees you again, he'll kill you, Wesley. This time for real. Don't come back to the hotel. Ever. The prophecy was a fake. Angel was never gonna hurt Connor. It  was all for nothing.
 
Angel: You live as long as I do, eventually you lose everyone. It's what happens. I'm not sayin' you get used to it but you expect it, you deal. But he was just... he was just a little...
 
Fred: Charles, do you have leukemia? Don't laugh at me! I see it on the news all the time -- they're young and in love, their whole lives ahead of them when tragedy strikes --
 
Gunn: Her name is "I'm a real woman, not a stick figure." Get the picture?
 
Fred: What? No! This is worse! Much worse! I wish he had broken up with me!
Cordelia: Fred, I hate to say this, but... are you sure he didn't? I mean, those things you said he said to you...
Fred: I know I said he said those things to me, but he would never say those things to me!
Cordelia: Those things he said?
Fred: Exactly! That's how I know he's in trouble!
 
Angel: So let me get this straight: You and Gunn are dating?
Fred: NOT ANYMORE, I GUESS!
 
Groo: And perhaps as we search, we could leave these small rectangles behind us -- as did that creature who came by yesterday inquiring after Gunn.
Angel: Right. Good -- what?
Groo: Small rectangles with telephonic digits. As a way for people to get in touch with us should they learn anything.
 
Cordelia: Angel --
Angel: I know.
Groo: We are surrounded.
Angel: I know.
Fred: We have to save Charles!
Angel: I KNOW!
 
Fred: This is so wrong in so many ways. I mean, it isn't money or a stuffed bunny Angel's playing for. It's my boyfriend.
Angel: Fred, I understand you're nervous. Don't be. I've been around a long time. Played a lot of cards and won a lot of bets.
Fred: See, that's where we're different. I tend to get lost and lose things.
 
Gunn: Angel...
Angel: It's over. No need to say thanks.
Gunn: You're right. -- If killing him was that easy, I would've done it myself.
 
Gunn: I was seventeen years old and I sold my soul for a truck.
Fred: Not this truck?
Gunn: Don't go dissin' my girl.