G: You've enslaved yourself to this, this... cult?
B: You don't like the colors?

X: Where was I?
W: You were pretending that seeing scantily clad girls in revealing postures was a spiritual experience.
X: Who said I was pretending?

B: That much quality time with my Mom would probably lead to some quality matricide.

G: That's the thrill of living on the Hellmouth. There's a virtual cornucopia of fiends and devils and ghouls to engage... Pardon me for finding the glass half full!

W: You're the Slayer and we're, like, the Slayerettes.

X: I laugh in the face of danger! Then I hide until it goes away.

X: That's why you're so cool! You're like a guy! You're my guy friend that knows about girl stuff.
W: Oh great. I'm a guy.

X: For I am Xander, King of Cretins; may all lesser cretins bow before me.

B: Mom, I've accepted that you've had sex. I am not ready to know that you had Farrah hair.
J: This is Gidget hair - don't they teach you anything in History?

X: That is the point, you don't have to drive it through my head like a railroad spike.

X: Man. Me battle!

X: First vampires, now witches. No wonder you can still afford a house in Sunnydale.

G: Why should someone want to harm Cordelia?
W: Maybe because they met her? Did *I* say that?

G: Let me be sure I have this right - this witch is casting horrible and disfiguring spells... so that she can become a *cheerleader*?

X: It's not what you think!
W: You like to look at the semi-nude engravings?
X: Oh, well, I guess it *is* what you think.

B: My buds are here! I love my buds!

B: You're my friend! You're my Xander-shaped friend!

B: You're not like other boys at all. You are totally and completely one of the girls!

B: I'm inscrutable, huh?
J: You're sixteen.

A: Well, I know I'll miss the intellectual thrill of spelling out words with my arms.