Doyle: She's not going to fall for my ample but unpretentious charms, is she?
Angel: Unless unpretentious means you don't like to brag about your family's old money.
Doyle: Hey, the only money in my family is underneath the couch cushions.
Doyle: Are you okay?
Cordelia: I'm fine. That was... You're so - brave.
Doyle: You think you could say that again without so much shock in your voice? You're stepping on my moment of manliness here.
Cordelia: I'm sorry. I'm just...
Cordelia: So, here I am at Le Petite Renard with Mr. Armani, who could keep me in blue boxes for the rest of my life...
Angel: Blue boxes?
Cordelia: Tiffany's! God! And the whole night I was bored silly. All I could think about was: if this wimp ever saw a monster he'd probably throw a shoe at it and run like a weasel. Turns out the shoe part was giving him too much credit.
Angel: There aren't very many people that wouldn't run. It's just human nature.
Cordelia: Yeah, - but all of a sudden rich and handsome isn't enough for me. Now I expect a guy to be all brave and interesting. And it's your fault! Both of you.
Angel: Well, maybe not. Maybe you're changing. That could be a good thing.
Cordelia: Disastrous. - And as if I wasn't confused enough, then Doyle comes along and rescues me like some - badly dressed superhero. He was really beat up - but you know the first thing he asked? Are you okay? I mean, that's like - substance, right.
Doyle: Hey I was just... That wasn't...
Cordelia: An incredible spaz attack? Good.
Cordelia: Who's Francis?
Doyle: That would be me. - Allen Francis Doyle. - Cordelia, this is Harry - my wife.
Doyle: You're - You're marrying that guy?
Harry: I know it's wild, huh? I'm definitely the Ying to his Yang, but it works! He's got a good heart, Francis, just like you.
Doyle: Yeah, maybe, but the container, eh? - can I get a side of bland with that bland?
Doyle: You know, Harry didn't leave because of the demon in me, - she left because of me.
Dad: Ah, lets see... First we greet the man of the hour. - Then we drink. We bring out the food. Then we drink. Then comes the Stripper. Darts, - then we have the ritual eating of the first husbands brains, and then charades.
Brother: Wait! What was that? - Charades?
Cousin: Yeah, I don't know about that.
Richard: Everybody, this party is for Doyle as much as it is for me, more even. He's the real bachelor here.
Doyle: Yeah, and thanks for not rubbing that in, by the way.
Cordelia: Grade third taught Doy... Doyle taught third grade? The kind with children?
Angel: Where are you?
Cordelia: In the netherworld known as the 818 area code. Why?
Angel: How is your Aratuscan?
Harry: Rusty, considering it's a dead demonic language.
Angel: Guess again.
Richard: Doyle, I just want to say how incredibly moved I am by your sacrifice. I hope that doesn't make me less of a man in your eyes.
Doyle: Sacrifice? - Huh? Okay, this can't be good.
Harry: It's about the bachelor party. Richard said having the former husband present was some sort of tradition. I was just wondering.
Aunt Martha: Well, they're certainly not going to eat your ex-husband's brains!... For instance.
Dad: Nick, what's this?
Nick: You said, get a utensil.
Dad: This is a shrimp fork. He's going to eat the guy's brains with a shrimp fork?
Nick: Well pardon me if our ancient ancestors didn't leave behind any former-husband-brain-eating forks.
Dad: Get a soup spoon, you moron.
Richard: Bear with us. We're a little fuzzy on the etiquette. This ritual hasn't been performed in centuries.
Doyle: Look, Richard as much as I like your family, and they're great, - honest, - I'd really prefer if they didn't cannibalize me.
Richard: Oh, no! You misunderstand.
Doyle: I do?
Richard: Yeah. It'll just be me.
Richard: Oh. - Well. - I see. - Now I'm not so sure I even want to eat your brains!
Dad: Don't be petulant, Richard. You'll eat his brains. He can't take back a blessing. Now, apologize to your friend.
Richard: He's right. That was rude. I'd be honored to eat your brains.
Nick: You brought a vampire to my brother's bachelor party?
Harry: I'm only going to ask you this once, Richard, and I expect a straight answer: were you or were you not intending to eat my ex-husband's brains?
Richard: In a way.
Harry: One word, Francis, just one word and I'll eat your brains!
Brother: You don't need her anyway!
Cousin: Yeah, who wants a wife whose knees only bend the one way?
Cordelia: Hi, Doyle. Are you going to become loser-pining guy, like, full-time now? Because you know, we already have one of those around the office.
Cordelia: He can get away with it. He's tall and - and look at the way clothes hang on him. But you...
Angel: Okay, I think you've cheered us up enough.
Cordelia: You can't live in the past. You got to move on. Let it go. Forget it. Tomorrow is another day. Did I mention letting go?
Cordelia: You'll get through this, Doyle. Nice guys don't always finish last.
Doyle: You think I'm a nice guy?
Cordelia: I think it, I say it. That's my way.