T: It's sorbis root. It was supposed to confuse him, but it just kind of made him peppy. It's not supposed to mix with anything - do you think he might be taking prescription medication?
S: Yeah, that MUST be it.
G: Good god, I hope he doesn't try to operate heavy machinery.

W: Try to drive him toward the Van Elton crypt.
T: Is that the one with the cute little gargoyle?

BB: Big, fast and dumb. Just the way I like 'em.

X: Great googly moogly, Willow. Would you quit doing that?
W: I told you I was going to get the lay of the land.
X: But not the lay of my brain.
A: It's kind of intrusive. You could knock first or something.

X: I know, I know, I don't have to talk when I answer you. But I saw "The Fury" and that way lies spooky carnival death.

W: What are you doing? Help him!
S: I did.
[vamp goes up in flames]
G: You might have let me in on your plan while he throttled me.
S: Oh, poor Watcher. Did your life pass before your eyes? Cup of tea, cup of tea, almost got shagged, cup of tea?

BB: That'll put marzipan in your pie plate, Bingo!
S: What's with the Dadaism, Red?

W: I was trying to program in some new puns, and I kind of ended up with word salad.

W: And I got her off those knock-knock jokes.
BB: Ooh, who's there?
X: You know, if we want her to be exactly...
S: She'll never be exactly.
X: I know.
T: The only really real Buffy is really Buffy.
G: And she's gone.
BB: "You know, if we want her to be exactly, she'll never be exactly, the only really real Buffy is really Buffy, and she's gone" who?

W: I think there's a clog-eating monster under the bed. It's really those lesser-known monsters that make living in Sunnydale so hard.

T: You doing okay?
W: Besides terror about today and a general feeling of impending doom? Swell.

X: House of chicks, relax. I'm a man, and I have a tool. [pause] Tool. Lots of plural tools, in my, uh, toolbox.

W: And you're her sweet cookie-face.
X: I go by many names.

W: Buffy-Bot is about to face her most dangerous challenge ever...
[Sign: Parent-Teacher Day]

A: You're taking the Ramadan effigy?
G: It's not inventory, it's my personal collection.
A: Uh-huh. Aren't you Mr. dicey semantics?

A: Give it!
G: No, you give it! Ow! Ow!!
X: Okay, when *I'm* marveling at the immaturity, be scared.

A: It's just... he keeps saying he's going, and then he doesn't. And I keep almost being in charge, but then I'm not. And maybe he shouldn't even be going at all, but we can't talk about that. And it all just leaves me with this stress and bossiness stored up, and it just leaks out.

A: I was being patient, but it took too long.

S: She responded to Buffy-Bot because a robot is predictable. Boring. A perfect teacher's pet. That's all school's are, you know. Just factories, spewing out mindless little automatons. [slight pause] Who go on to be very valuable and productive members of society, and you should go.

S: I'm not leaving you to get hurt. Not again.

BB: You can run away now. Not you!

BB: Vampires, beware.

T: You found the last known Urn of Osiris on eBay?
A: Yeah, from this desert gnome in Cairo. He drove a really hard bargain, but I finally got him to throw in a limited-edition Backstreet Boys lunchbox for a...
X: [coughs]
A: A friend.

X: It's time? Like, TIME time?! With the.. timeliness?

A: Tomorrow?
X: I don't know.
A: Discovery Channel has monkeys. And our tape machine's all wonky...
W: Nobody's changing their minds, period.
X: Excuse me? Who made you the boss of the group?
A: You did.
T: You said Willow should be boss.
A: And then you said "let's vote," and it was unanimous.
T: And then you made her this little plaque that said "Boss of Us" and you put little sparkles on it...
X: Valid points all.

X: Scenario: We raise Buffy from the grave. She tries to eat our brains. Do we A: congratulate ourselves on a job well done...?
W: Xander, this isn't zombies.
A: Zombies don't eat brains anyway, unless instructed to by their zombie masters. Lot of people get that wrong.

BB: I think my feet are broken.

S: She wanted to go out and look for you again, but I figured there were enough things in Sunnydale that go bump in the night.

BB: Sorry I questioned you, Spike. You know I admire your brain almost as much as your washboard abs.

W: He just gets cranky. The way vampires do.

A: You know, she's not the descendant of a long line of mystical warriors. She's the descendant of a toaster oven.

G: Yes, I was a perfect Watcher. I did what any good Watcher would do - got my Slayer killed in the line of duty.

Biker Demon: You're lying to me.
Vamp: I swear on all that's unholy!

Biker Demon: Nowhere like the Hellmouth for a party.

Credit: The Sunnydale Slayers