Quotes

"She"

Episode written by: David Greenwalt & Marti Noxon
Quote List compiled by: MBNielsen9

Cordelia: Hi! You having fun?
Angel: Sure. This is, uh...
Cordelia: Your idea of hell.
Angel: Actually, in hell you tend to know a lot of the people.

Girl: Nice sweater. Hand-knit?
Wesley: Certainly not by me!
Girl: I didn't mean ... I mean, it's a great sweater.
Wesley: Oh, well I'll pass that on then ... to the person who knit it. I mean, I would if I knew who did. Which I don't. So I won't pass it on to anyone, will I?
Angel: (silence)

Laura: So, would you like to dance?
(Visions of Angel dancing in the most hilariously goofy montage)
Angel: I don't dance.

(Chair pulls out)
Angel: Hi, Dennis. How ya doin'?
(Beer floats over and opens)
Angel: Still dead? (sips) I know the feeling.

Angel: Is there coffee?
Cordelia: They're still in bean form. I thought I ordered the ground. Maybe you could crush the beans with your vampire strength. Just mush the bag. Mush 'em.

Angel: Really, uh, fun party last night.
Cordelia: I'm so glad you came. You know how parties are. You're always worried that nobody's going to be around to suck the energy out of the room like a giant black hole of boring despair. But there you were, in the clinch!

Cordelia: You used to be a person! Did you never party? Did people not gather in olden times?
Angel: I talked to people -- Laura.
Cordelia: Laura thought you hated her; I had to tell her you were challenged.

Angel: I got two modes with people: bite and avoid. Hard to shift.

Angel: The quiet, reserved thing -- don't you think that makes me kind of, I don't know, cool?
Cordelia: He was cooler.
Wesley: Good morning!
Angel: Now I'm depressed.

Wesley: I don't suppose there's any leftovers lying about -- any abandoned shrimp puffs?
Angel: You're broke aren't you?
Wesley: Angel, a man's finances are his own business.
Angel: You want a job?
Wesley: Oh, yes, please!

Cordelia: Well, this is great! Now we're really... (turns to Angel) Do I have to take a pay cut?
Angel: (shakes his head)
Cordelia:...a team!

Cordelia: (to Wesley) Don't go getting all sappy. (to Angel) Hold me!
Angel: Look, why don't we just. . .
Cordelia: No! Hold me! (collapses)

Cordelia: Gross! Oh, Ew! Is all. Ugh.
Wesley: What did you see?
Cordelia: I don't just see. I feel, okay? Thank you, Doyle.

Wesley: I intend to earn my keep. Oh, in terms of this keep, by the by...
Angel: There's no dental.
Wesley: Right, well, I'll floss.

Cordelia: All I felt was his fear -- and the exploding eyeballs. Did I mention I hate this gig?

Angel: Captain Inferno, I presume? That's close enough. I don't do well near an open flame.

Angel: I'm not a big talker; I usually let others carry the conversation. I am pretty good at putting these (indicates crowbar) through heads though.

Cordelia: There are portals now? When did they put in portals? Don't we have enough on our hands with out burning monsters fiends coming here?

Wesley: We'll figure out who he is, where he comes from -- boss. You can count on it.
Cordelia: Wesley, *stop* kissing butt. It's not like we get overtime.
Angel: (glare)
Cordelia: Oh, I'll get right on it.

Angel (on cell phone): Did she care for me?
Cordelia: Did she Carrie you -- Carrie. . . like the movie? You know!

Angel (on cell phone): I can hear you now. These things were definitely cooked up by a bored warlock.

Angel (on cell phone): She was very . . . attractive, for a demon.
Cordelia: A hottie, huh? I guess she's that all right. What with the sizzle.
Angel (on cell phone): The Sizzler?

Angel: On the left one spies the painter himself; in the middle distance is the French poet and critic Baudelaire, a friend of the artist. Now, Baudelaire -- interesting fellow. In his poem *Le Vampire* he wrote: "Thou who abruptly as knife did come to my heart." He strongly believed that evil forces surrounded mankind. And some even speculated that the poem was about a real vampire. Oh, and Baudelaire is actually a little taller and a lot drunker than he's depicted here.

Wesley: AHA!
Cordelia: (gasp) That better be an AHA! of triumph. I was dreaming there was a going-out-of-business sale at Neiman's!
Wesley: I think I've located them - the Vygeries of Odin Tao.
Cordelia: The whodies of whatty?

Angel: I'm guessing the Royal family isn't loving the portal-jumping, refugee-aiding duties you've assigned yourself.

Wesley: Now that I'm officially in Angel's employ, I feel it's doubly important to show initiative and drive. We can't just dally ab-- Look! Nancy's Petticoat!

Cordelia: I wonder how we find where they keep the compost?
Wesley: I'd say we follow our noses.

Jhiera: How are they doing?
Guy: They're chillin'!

Guy: My shaman has a place in the desert. He never could turn away scantily clad women from any dimension.
Jhiera: (glare)
Guy: You know, I wish you'd let me work on your mirth chakra.

Wesley: There's no answer.
Cordelia: I bet he forgot to turn that thing on again. You'd think a guy who knows how to use an ancient Scythian short bow could figure out how to use a cell phone.

Cordelia: What are you doing? We nearly got burned from the inside out, and you're here getting all April fresh?
Angel: Hello?

Angel: Here's the plan: We go in. I start hitting people hard in the face, see where it takes us.

Guy: Welcome, bro!
Angel: I need to see Jhiera, now.
Guy: I'm sorry, no Jhiera here, but I already see I can help you. First, let's talk about the clothes vibe.

Guy: And which dimension are you from, brother?
Angel: You don't want to know.

Wesley: My, what a grip. Very healthy. Surprisingly firm myself, under the jacket. Have a feel.
Cordelia: You're pathetic! And about to get your eyeballs fried!

Tay: You don't understand our ways, human.
Angel: No, I don't. (morph) And I'm not human.

Angel: Sorry! I had a little...
Cordelia: Mushing didn't work out so great, huh?

Cordelia: Wow. Groveling isn't just a way of life for you. It's an art.
Wesley: I do not grovel. (to Angel) Please don't fire me.

Wesley: What happened yesterday was an anomaly. I'm very rarely taken hostage.

Wesley: I'm your faithful servant Angel.
Cordelia: Like I said, an art.

Cordelia (to Jhiera): Oh, look who's here. Can I get you something? Knife to our throat, you can run away?

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