Xander: I think I'm gonna be sick.
Anya: Again?

Xander: Well, at least she'll get there first.
Buffy: Counting the ways that can go wrong.

Xander: Okay, then, I'll just catch up. She's only my best friend, you know. No big deal, just.. Glad I can help.

Andrew: Dude, move, like, a foot to your left.
Jonathan: What for?
Andrew: I'm trying to hear something.
Jonathan: Like what?
Andrew: Signals.
Jonathan: Oh, for crying out loud -- signals? Who from, your probe-happy alien friends? Say, maybe we can trade a pack of cigarettes in for tinfoil. Make you a nice little antenna hat.
Andrew: Laugh it up, fuzzball.

Jonathan: You're checking for implants?

Andrew: Lex Luthor had a false epidermis escape hit in Superman versus the Amazing Spiderman, Treasury Edition.
Jonathan: Okay, first of all, those were sonic disrupters. Second of all, you are sadness personified.

Jonathan: Hey, Warren, do you read me? Your girlfriend's pathetic. Over.
Andrew: Shut up, Jerkathon.

Andrew: This is why we get jet-packs, and all you get is left behind.

Andrew: You were out of the trio a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.

Jonathan: See how far it's gotten you? Checking every hole in your sad little body for transmitters that don't exist.
Andrew: Oh, I'll find it, if I have to check every hole in my body and yours.

Jonathan: Anya, you're gonna have to break this down for us a little.
Anya: Warren shot Buffy. Warren shot Tara. Buffy's alive. Tara's dead. Willow found out, and being the most powerful Wicca in the Western Hemisphere, decided to get the payback, with interest.
Andrew: What about Warren?
Anya: She killed him. Ripped him apart, and bloodied up the forest doing it.

Cop: What exactly's coming?
Anya: One of the many things in the world you are not prepared to deal with.

Anya: So please stop looking at me like it's your first trip to the circus and do your job.

Andrew: We didn't do anything.
Jonathan: Yes we did. We signed on. We teamed up. We wanted to see where our plans would take us. Well, take a look. This is it!

Andrew: She's like Dark Phoenix up there. You expect us just to outrun her?
Buffy: Pretty much.

Andrew: Run and hide? That's your brilliant plan?

Xander: Boys, if you don't knock it off, I will pull this car over, and you can just walk to your painful deaths from here.

Jonathan: I still can't believe that was Willow. I mean, I've known her almost as long as you guys. Willow was... you know... she packed her own lunches and wore floods and was always... just Willow.
(loud bang)
Andrew: Jeez it!
Jonathan: What was that?
Xander: Just Willow.

Jonathan: She's draining.
Xander: She's what-ing?

Clem: Not that I'm knocking the nacho cheese ones. I like the taste. It's just the texture I can't deal with. So gritty. Kinda hurts my tongue. So, I give 'em a 7. Maybe a 7.5... and you think this is dumb, don't you?
Dawn: No, no. As taste tests go, this is definitely one of the better ones I've been to.

Clem: I can be a real boredom buster if you just give me half a chance.

Clem: Your sister's the Slayer. I'm a demon. That's real good incentive to get along with her.

Demon: You understand, then?
Spike: Yeah, yeah. It's not like you haven't been clear about it, oh great Mysterious One. This is a test. I don't get what I want unless I pass said test. That about the size and shape?
Demon: Yes.
Spike: And since your pad is decked out gladiator-style, and no #2 pencils have been provided, I guess we're not starting with the written.

Spike: Oh, here we go, then. Just me and the walking action figure.

Xander: Can you still sense Willow? Knowing her location would be a real big comfort right about now.
Anya: No, I can't. Which means whatever she's feeling, it's gone way beyond simple vengeance.
Xander: Did I mention me needing the comfort?

Andrew: I could summon a demon that would kill her.
Xander: And I could smack you so hard, your eyeballs'll switch sockets.

Anya: Good news is, the test is intact. Bad news is, uh, can't read a word of it.

Jonathan: I've dabbled in magicks.
Xander: I think Willow's in a league of her own about now, dabble-boy.

Buffy: Remember that thing we talked about?
Jonathan: About me shutting up?

Rack: When you first came to me, you were just a little slip of a girl. Look at you now -- so growed up. So full of dark juice. And you still taste like strawberries. Only now... you're ripe.

Dawn: You're back on the magicks.
Willow: No, honey, I am the magicks.

Willow: Wanna go back? End the pain? You'll be happier. I'll be happier. We'll all be a lot happier without listening to the constant whining.
Dawn: Willow, stop.
Willow: Mom! Buffy! Tara! Waah!

Xander: What have we got so far?
Anya: So far, we've got "the". Well, either "the" or "towards". I'm not really sure. I can't do this. I'm in retail!

Andrew: We can be a duo, you and me. You can even be the leader. I swear, I'll take orders. I like taking orders. Just tell me what to do.
Jonathan: You want an order? Grow up!

Xander: And willow will make you two boneless chickens skinless, too.

Andrew: You saw her -- she's a truck-driving magic mama! And we've got maybe seconds before Darth Rosenberg grinds everybody into Jawa-burgers, and not one of you bunch has the midiclorians to stop her.
Xander: You've never had any tiny bit of sex, have you?
Anya: The annoying virgin has a point.

Anya: She tried to use you for a hood ornament, Xander. She doesn't care if you live or die.
Xander: Guess you two finally have something in common.
Anya: I care if you live or die, Xander. I'm just not sure which one I want.
Xander: Again with the comfort.

Xander: Look, we both know things might get ugly at Wicca-palooza, and if it gets really bad...
Anya: Let me guess, you'll propose?

Xander: Right, 'cause you varnishing the table with Spike -- how could that possibly have hurt? It may have chafed...

Anya: I really can't hurt you, so I'm just gonna have to settle for hating you.

Xander: You want me to know how useless I am? That it's my fault? Thanks. I already got the memo.

Willow: The only time you were ever at peace in your whole life was when you were dead.

Willow: You boys like magic, don't you? Abracadabra.

Spike: Bad move, bad move, bad move...

Willow: Six years as a sideman. Now I get to be the Slayer.

Willow: Oh, Buffy. You really need to have every square inch of your ass kicked.

Willow: Get off, superbitch!

Andrew: We're just supposed to sit around waiting for Sabrina to show up and disembowel us?

Willow: And there's no one in the world who has the power to stop me now.
Giles: I'd like to test that theory.