Joyce: "Listen, you two, I know this creamed spinach is pretty delicious, but I promise I won't be offended if you go out for some real food."
Buffy: "Are you kidding me? This is the good life. Relaxing in bed while people bring you food on trays."
Dawn: "I like the jell-o."
Joyce: "Help yourself. There's something about food that moves by itself that gives me the heebie-jeebies."
Dawn: "It's good and wiggly. There's a girl at school told me that gelatin is made from ground up cows feet, and that if you eat jell-o there's some cows that are limping with no feet, but I told her I'm sure they kill 'em before they take off their feet... right?"
Buffy: "You're the one who insisted on teaching her to talk."

Buffy: "Waiting? Give me a break. We got tons to do."
Dawn: "We have soap operas to watch, and trashy magazines to read."
Buffy: "And an adjustable bed to fiddle with. That alone can keep me busy for four hours or so."

Willow: "Oh, I feel just like Santa Claus, except thinner and younger, and female, and, well, Jewish."

Riley: "No, it's not hot, it's warm. And broken. And sort of..."
Giles: "Hollow?"
Riley: "Yeah."
Anya: "So, we're all thinking the same thing, right?"
Xander: "Festive pinata? Delicious candy?"
Willow: "Something evil crashed to Earth in this, and then broke out and slithered away to do badness."
Giles: "In all fairness, we don't really know about the 'slithered' part."
Anya: "Oh, no. I'm sure it frisked about like a fluffy lamb."

Giles: "Perhaps we should explore a bit more. Head into the woods a bit."
Xander: "Who votes research?"
Anya: "Me."
Willow: "Research."
Giles: "Much better idea."
Riley: "Yeah, I think that's a good call."

Joyce: "No matter what she is, she still feels like my daughter. I have to know that you'll take care of her, that you'll keep her safe, that you'll love her like I love you."
Buffy: "I promise."

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