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Xander: Well, what else do you wanna do? We already played rock, paper, scissors. My hands cramped up.
Willow: Well, yes, if you're always scissors of course your tendons are gonna strain...

Snyder: I mean, it's incredible. One day the campus is completely bare. Empty. The next, there are children everywhere. Like locusts. Crawling around, mindlessly bent on feeding and mating. Destroying everything in sight in their relentless, pointless desire to exist.
Giles: I do enjoy these pep talks. Have you ever considered, given your abhorrence of children, school's principal was not, perhaps, your true vocation?

Xander: Yo! G-man! What's up?
Giles: Nice to see you. And don't ever call me that.

Giles: I wonder if they're here for any purpose, particularly.
Buffy: You're the Watcher. I just work here.
Giles: Yes, I-I must consult my books.
Xander: Oh, eight minutes and thirty-three seconds, pay up.(to giles) I called ten minutes before you'd consult your books about something.

Xander: Oh, c'mon, you can tell us. We're your bosom friends! The friends of your bosom!

Willow: Tsh! Tell me about it. The other night I dreamt that Xander...Uh, I-it wasn't Xander. I-in fact it wasn't me. It was a friend's dream, and she doesn't remember it.
Buffy: I bet she doesn't.

Cordelia: What are you guys talking about? I'm talking about big squiggly demons that came from the ground? Remember? Prom night? With all the vampires.
Buffy: Cordelia, your mouth is open and sound is coming from it. This is never good.

Buffy: Well, that works out great. You won't tell anyone that I'm the Slayer, and I won't tell anyone you're a moron.

Cordelia: Buffy. You're really campaigning for bitch-of- the-year, aren't you?
Buffy: As defending champion, you nervous?

Cordelia: I'm gonna give you some advice. Get over it.
Buffy: Excuse me?
Cordelia: Whatever is causing the Joan Collins 'tude, deal with it. Embrace the pain, spank your inner moppet, whatever, but get over it. 'Cause pretty soon you're not even gonna have the loser friends you've got now.

Willow: That's what it was! I mean, why else would she be acting like such a b-i-t-c-h?
Giles: Willow, I think we're all a little too old to be spelling things out.
Xander: A bitca?

Snyder: There're some things I can just smell. It's like a sixth sense.
Giles: No, actually that would be one of the five.
Snyder: That Summers girl. I smell trouble. I smell expulsion, and just the faintest aroma of jail.
Giles: Well, before you throw away the key, you might consider giving her the benefit of the doubt. She may surprise you.
Snyder: You really have faith in those kids, don't you?
Giles: Yes, I do.
Snyder: Weird.

Angel: Why are you ridin' me?
Buffy: Because I don't trust you. You're a vampire. Oh, I'm sorry, was that an offensive term? Should I say 'undead American'?

Cordelia: What an ordeal. And you know what the worst part is?
Jenny: What?
Cordelia: It stays with you forever. No matter what they tell you, none of that rust and blood and grime comes out. I mean, you can dry clean till judgment day, you are living with those stains.
Jenny: Yeah that's the worst part of being hung upside down by a vampire who wants to slit your throat: the stains.
Cordelia: I hear ya!

Giles: What are you gonna do? Crawl inside a cave for the rest of your life?
Buffy: Would it have cable?