Compiled by Kristina

Fred: Sorry. Did I startle you guys?
Wesley: Naw.
Cordy: Only in the sense of shocking and jolting us. What's up?
Fred: Nothing, just taking a little stroll and... why do girls want to look like that? I spent years in a cave, starving. What's their excuse?
Cordy: Fashion.

Angel: No. You may not know this, Fred,but certain friends and co-workers have been known to accuse me of being the quiet, stay-at-home, sulky one. I guess some people just don't know how to have fun anymore.

Fred: He opened every door for me, and he paid for the tickets, and he even bought a jumbo popcorn and every few minutes, he'd do this ... Because he wanted to let me know it was okay for me to have some. And he's sooo lonely. Because he's the last man on Earth.
Wesley: Angel?
Fred: No. Charlton Heston. The Omega Man. Omega being the last letter of the Greek alphabet, so it's a metaphor. And he'd always walk on the street side, and not the building side. It's old fashioned, but kinda chivalrous, you know?
Wesley: We're back to talking about Angel.
Fred: Right. And even though we didn't talk a lot, it was okay. It was still comfortable. I mean it wasn't that awkward kind of quiet. You know that awkward kind of quiet?

Cordy: She's got the big puppy love! I mean, who wouldn't? You're handsome. And brave and heroic. Mysterious ... emotionally stunted, erratic, prone to turning evil, and let's face it, a eunuch.
Angel: Hey! What -- how can you -- I'm not a eunuch!
Cordy: Angel, it's just a figure of speech.
Angel: Find a better one!

Wes: You know there is something about brewed tea you simply can not replicate with a bag.

Gavin: You're a tough one. I know I'm gonna have to earn your respect. But give me a little time. You'll see I'm a creative guy.
Lilah: Oh, like your 'lets torment Angel with building code violations' idea? Uh, so machiavellian! We'll just drown him in red tape.
Gavin: There are other levels to this, Lilah. Avenues of interest I have... One of them being: does Angel even exist?
Lilah: Are you getting metaphysical on me?
Gavin: No. The guy has no social security number, no tax payer ID, no last name as far as I know. How can he go down to the building department, or anywhere else in officialdom for that matter? - He's the rat and we're the maze. Don't you wanna see what he'll do next?
Lilah: He might just rip out your throat.
Gavin: Do you think he'd do something that cliched? Gosh. Maybe you don't know him as well as you think.

Cordy: ...there could be follow-up questions, I'll need home phone numbers. Let's start with you, Benny.

Wes: Ah, my contact at the coroner. I can see one of the bodies. I should go.
Cordy: Gunn can go with you.
Gunn: That wasn't the kind of body I had in mind to see.

Fake Angel: Hey Angel! How's my head? Hope you put some ice on it. Sweet deal you got goin', love the hotel and Cordelia, whoo!, that's how I spell w-o-m-a-n.

Fake Angel: Great idea, guys. I'll stay here. Hold the fort. Look over the evidence.

Cordy: Let me tell you, if Julia Roberts ever makes a realistic movie about being an escort, it should be called "Pretty Skanky Woman."

Fred: I shoulda knocked. I always forget to knock 'cause, you know, I didn't have a door for so long. He called me sweetheart, but that's just an expression, isn't it, like when a waitress calls you honey, it doesn't mean you're special or anything. It's just a word, right? Sweetheart.
Cordy: Is this about Angel? Oh he talked to you, didn't he? This is my fault. I told him to do that.
Fred: You told him to make out with that woman on the desk?
Cordy: What? No. -- What woman?

Marcus: You -- you don't deserve that body.
Angel: Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you.

Fred: It's like something out of Fitzgerald -- the man who can have everything but love. Well, maybe in some ways you're better off. Because love is -- well in a way it's everything -- but it's also heartache and disappointment and those are good things to avoid.

Cordy: Angel! Willow's on the phone. She's alive. Buffy's alive.