Drusilla: My mummy used to sing me to sleep at night. Run and catch, the lamb is caught in the blackberry patch... She had the sweetest voice. What will your mummy sing when they find your body?
James: I'm not supposed to talk to people.
Drusilla: Oh. Well, I'm not a person, see, so that's just...
Angel: Run home.
Drusilla: My Angel!
Angel: Hello, Drusilla.
Drusilla: Or you'll hurt me? No. No, you can't. Not anymore.
Drusilla: The girl. The Slayer. Your heart stinks of her. Poor little thing. She has no idea what's in store.
Angel: This can't go on, Drusilla. It's gotta end.
Drusilla: Oh, no, my pet. This is just the beginning.
Jenny: Rupert, you're just gonna have to trust me.
Giles: Alright, alright, I p-put myself in your hands.
Jenny: That sounds like fun.
Cordelia: I just don't see why everyone's always picking on Marie Antoinette. I can so relate to her. She worked really hard to look that good, and people just don't appreciate that kind of effort. And I know the peasants were all depressed...
Xander: I think you mean 'oppressed'.
Cordelia: Whatever. They were cranky. So they're like, 'Let's lose some heads!' Uhhh! That's fair. And, and Marie Antoinette cared about them. She was gonna let them have cake.
Teacher: Yes, well, that's a very interesting perspective.
Xander: Hey, it's me. If Angel's doing something wrong, I wanna know cause it gives me a happy.
Buffy: Mm, I'm glad someone has a happy.
Xander: Aw, you just need cheering up. And I know just the thing! Crazed dance party at the Bronze!
Buffy: I dunno.
Xander: Very calm dance party at the Bronze? Moping at the Bronze.
Ford: I'd suggest a box of Oreos dunked in apple juice, but maybe she's over that phase.
Buffy: It was terrible. I moped over you for months. Sitting in my room listening to that Divinyls song "I Touch Myself". Of course, I had no idea what it was about.
Ford: But if you guys already had plans... Would I be imposing?
Xander: No, only in the literal sense.
Xander: This is Ford, my bestest friend of all my friends! Jeez, doesn't she know any fat guys?
Willow: Oh, that's what thant song is about?!
Willow: That's Angel.
Xander: He's Buffy's beau. Her special friend.
Ford: He's not in school, right? He looks older than her.
Xander: You're not wrong.
Buffy: So. What'd you do last night?
Buffy: Nothing at all. You ceased to exist?
Angel: Nice to meet you.
Ford: Whoa! Cold hands!
Xander: You're not wrong.
Xander: Okay, once more with tension.
Buffy: Um... uh, there was a, a cat. A cat here, and, um, then there was a-another cat... and they fought. The cats. And...then they left.
Ford: Oh. I thought you were just slaying a vampire.
Buffy: What? Whating a what?
Ford: A couple more days and we'll get to do the two things every American teen should have the chance to do: die young, and stay pretty.
Jack: So... You play your wits against mine. Me, who commanded armies hundred of years before you were born. Fools!
Angel: I-if this is a bad time, I...
Willow: No! I just... I'm not supposed to have boys in my room.
Angel: I promise to behave myself.
Willow: Okay. Good.
Willow: Uh, Angel? If I say something you really don't wanna hear, do you promise not to bite me?
Buffy: Are you drinking coffee again? Cause we've talked about this.
Willow: Hahaha. It makes me jumpy. I have to go. Away.
Ford: Nice girl!
Buffy: There aren't two of those in the world.
Giles: You are not, by any chance, betraying your secret identity to impress, um, cute boys, are you?
Xander: Yeah, I'm gonna have to go with Dead Boy on this one.
Angel: Could you not call me that?
Willow: Okay, but do they really stick out?
Willow: Sore thumbs. Do they stick out? I mean, have you ever seen a thumb and gone, 'Wow! That baby is sore!'
Xander: You have too many thoughts.
Xander: Are you probably noticing a theme here?
Willow: As in 'Vampires! Yay!'?
Xander: That's the one.
Willow: The Lonely Ones?
Xander: Oh! We usually call them the nasty, pointy, bitey ones.
Angel: I mean, they're childeren making up bedtime stories of friendly vampires to comfort themselves in the dark.
Willow: Is that so bad? I mean, the dark can get pretty dark. Sometimes you need a story.
Buffy: Who's this?
Giles: Um, she's called Drusilla, a sometime paramour of Spike's. She was killed by an angry mob in Prague.
Buffy: Well, they don't make angry mobs like they used to, cause this girl's alive. I saw her with Angel.
Giles: A book! It took one of my books!
Jenny: Well, at least someone in this school is reading.
Drusilla: I'll give you a seed if you sing.
Spike: The bird's dead, Dru. You left it in a cage, and you didn't feed it, and now it's all dead, just like the last one.
Spike: Oh, I'm sorry baby. I'm a bad, rude man. I just don't like you goin out, that's all. You are weak. Would you like a new bird? One that's not dead?
Buffy: And don't lie to me. I'm tired of it.
Angel: Some lies are necessary.
Buffy: For what?
Angel: Sometimes the truth is worse. You live long enough, you find that out.
Xander: Angel was in your bedroom?
Willow: Ours is a forbidden love.
Buffy: I'm sorry, Ford. I just couldn't wait till tonight! I'm rash and impulsive. It's a flaw.
Ford: We all have flaws.
Buffy: I'm still a little fuzzy on exactly what yours is. I think it has to do with being a lying scumbag.
Ford: Everybody lies.
Buffy: What I see is that, right after the sun goes down, Spike and all of his friends are going to be pigging out at the all-you-can-eat moron bar.
Diego: Okay, that's it. I think we should gag her.
Buffy: I think you should try.
Diego: She's an unbeliever. She taints us.
Buffy: I'm trying to save you! You are playing in some serious traffic here! Do you understand that? You're going to die! And the only hope you have of surviving this is to get out of this pit right now, and, my God could you have a dorkier outfit?
Ford: I gotta back her up, D. You look like a big ninny.
Ford: It's better than nothing.
Buffy: And your life is nothing? Ford, these people don't deserve to die!
Ford: Well, neither do I! But apparently no one took that into consideration cause I'm still dying. I look good, don't I? Well, let me tell you something: I've got maybe six months left, and by then what they bury won't even look like me. It'll be bald and shriveled and it'll smell bad. No, I'm not going out that way. I'm sorry, Summers. Did I screw up your righteous anger riff? Does the nest of tumors liquefying my brain kinda spoil the fun?
Buffy: I'm sorry. I had no idea. But what you're doing is still very wrong.
Ford: Okay, well, you try vomiting for twenty-four hours straight because the pain in your head is so intense, and then we'll discuss the concept of right and wrong. These people are sheep. They wanna be vampires cause they're lonely, miserable or bored. I don't have a choice.
Buffy: You have a choice. You don't have a good choice, but you have a choice! You're opting for mass murder here, and nothing you say is gonna make that okay!
Buffy: People, listen to me! This is not the mothership, people! This is ugly death come to play!
Spike: Uh, where's the doorknob?
Buffy: They're contained. They'll get out eventually, though. We should probably go. We can come back when they're gone.
Xander: Come back for what?
Buffy: For the body.
Ford: What happened?
Spike: We're stuck in a basement.
Spike: She's not stuck in the basement.
Buffy: Does it ever get easy?
Giles: You mean life?
Buffy: Yeah. Does it get easy?
Giles: What do you want me to say?
Buffy: Lie to me.
Giles: Yes, its terribly simple. The good guys are always stalwart and true. The bad guys are easily distinguished by the pointy horn or black hats. And, uh we always defeat them and save the day. No one ever dies, and everybody lives happily ever after.