Prof. Gerhardt: "That's what the melting pot is about - contributions from all cultures, making our culture stronger."
Willow: "What a load of horse hooey."
Buffy: "We have a counterpoint?"
Willow: "Yeah. Thanksgiving isn't about blending of two cultures. It's about one culture wiping out another. And then they make animated specials, about the part where - with the maize and the big, big belt buckles. They don't show you the next scene where all the bison die, and Squanto takes a musket ball in the stomach."
Buffy: "Okay, now, for some of that you were channelling your mother?"

Buffy: "I'm sorry, a lost mission. I mean, a hairbrush I can understand - and by the way, I will find that and get it back to you - but how do you lose a mission?"

Willow: "Buffy, earlier you agreed with me about Thanksgiving. It's a sham. It's all about death."
Buffy: "It is a sham. But it's a sham with yams. It's a yam sham."

Anya: "You're pasty and wet and disgusting. They can dig without you."
Xander: "I don't really feel that bad."
Anya: "I inflicted a lot of putrefying diseases on men when I was an avenging demon. You look like you're getting all of them."
Xander: "Okay, I'll stay. But you should go. You could catch it."
Anya: "We'll die together. It's romantic. Let me get your trousers off."
Xander: "You're a strange girlfriend."
Anya: "I'm a girlfriend?"
Xander: "There's a chance I'm delirious."
Anya: "Ah, yes. Well, whatever it is that's making you sick, so far, I like it."

Buffy: "Do you even own a turkey pan?"
Giles: "Tell me again why we're not doing this at your house?"
Buffy: "Giles, if you would like to get by in American society, you are going to have to follow our traditions. You're the patriarch. You have to host the festivities, or it's all meaningless."
Giles: "And this is in no way an elaborate scheme to stick me with the clean-up?"

Willow: "But you have whipped cream. I saw it in Giles' fridge."
Buffy: "But that's whipped cream in a canister. Look, it's only right if you whip it yourself."
Willow: "Hey, and then later we can churn our own butter, and make sweaters out of sheep."

Buffy: "We need to boil those and put them through the ricer."
Giles: "I don't think I have a ricer."
Buffy: "You don't have a ricer? What do you mean? How could someone not have a ricer?"
Giles: "Well, do you have one at home?"
Buffy: "I don't know. What's a ricer?"

Giles: "You look like death."
Willow: "Are you okay?"
Buffy: "You didn't bring rolls?"

Willow: "It lists the various--"
Xander: "Various? As in...?"
Willow: "Oh, well, the important thing is not to panic."
Xander: "Well, you just recited the mystical panic causing incantation, so little hope there. Let's talk about the various."
Willow: "Well, they did suffer from malaria, some smallpox..."
Anya: "I was gonna say smallpox."
Willow: "You know, syphilis. But basically, standard sort of stuff."

Buffy: "So you haven't murdered anybody lately? Let's be best pals!"