Spike: How long have you known I was there?
Fred: Just..since the lobby.

Angel: And your hair--what color are they calling it now? Radioactive?

Fred: He's slipping into hell.
Gunn: Kinda figured.
Wesley: Of course.
Gunn: Where else would he be headed?

Lorne (on the phone): Stop crying stop crying. It's OK if you've put on a couple of pounds since casting. They can't just...no no just put the pills down. I'll straighten this out, if I can't I'll take a handfull myself.

Angel: I know Spike better than anyone, and he only cares about himself.
Fred: And Buffy.
Eve: Oh this is getting interesting.
Angel: You're right...he does care about Buffy. So where do you think he's going to run off to as soon as his fresh new feet hit the ground?

Fred: He just saved the world, vampire with a soul, fighting for the good of humanity. Ring anything? He's just like you, a champion.
Angel: God I really hate that word.

Spike: You and me, together again. Hope and Crosby. Stills and Nash. Chico and the –
Angel: Yeah, are we done?
Spike: Never much for small talk, were you? Always too busy trying to perfect that brooding block-of-wood mystique. God, I love that.
Angel: Not as much as I loved your non-stop yammering.
Spike: The way you always had to be the big swingy, swaggerin' around, barkin' orders.
Angel: Never listening.
Spike: Always interrupting.
Angel: And your hair, what colour do they call that, radioactive?
Spike: Never much cared for you, Liam, even when we were evil.
Angel: Cared for you less.
Spike: Fine.
Angel: Good.
[A long pause.]
Angel: There was one thing about you.
Spike: Really?
Angel: Yeah, I never told anybody about this, but I – I liked your poems.
Spike: You like Barry Manilow.

Wesley: Angel does have a point. Spike has been unintentionally disapparating more and more frequently.
Gunn: Give him 20 minutes. He'll be popping up next to you in the bathroom, making cracks about your... Am I the only one he does that to?

Spike: I never much cared for you Liam, even when we were evil.
Angel: I cared for you less.
Spike: Fine!
Angel: Good.

Spike: All I had to do, was want it bad enough. Guess what I want to do now you prissy son of a bitch! (Kicks him through a wall)

Pavayne: No! Defilers, I'll cut you into nothing! I'll feast on your brains! I'll swim in lakes of your own blood!
Angel: (punches him) You'll shut the hell up!

Spike: Don't kill him, if he becomes a spirit again we'll never stop him.
Angel: Fine, no killing. Just a whole lot of bruising.

Gunn: Got it. The dark soul.
Angel: What's it say?
Gunn: Not a lot. There are over thirty two hundred references, four of them are about you.
Angel: What!? Give me that.
Wesley: This is getting us nowhere.
Angel: Well that's not fair, I didn't even have a soul when I did that.