Dawn: You know, I'm not the shortest one here. I don't know why I had to be in the kid coffin.
Buffy: I should be home in bed, cuddling up to my insomnia and worrying about how I'm gonna mess up tomorrow.
Buffy: What if their problems are weird and tricky?
Buffy: You need to show this bully that you're not gonna take any more of his sh guuuff. Uh, any guff.
Xander: "From beneath you, it devours." It's not the friendliest jingle, is it? It's no "I like Ike" or "Milk, it does a body good."
Xander: Figuring out how to control your magic seems a lot like hammering a nail. Well, hear me out. So you're hammering, right? If you hold the end of the hammer, you have the power, but no control. It takes, like, two strokes to hit the nail in. Or you could hit your thumb.
Josh: I'm worried that I'm gay.
Buffy: It sounds like it's difficult for you. Like, maybe your sister makes it hard for you to establish your own identity. You said she's controlling, she doesn't let you make your own decisions.
Principal Wood: When I was in high school, I had a thing with this guy, right? Real bully. I kept telling everyone that he better sleep with one eye open, 'cause I was gonna bust his ass. Well, I got suspended. Talk like that is taken pretty seriously where I come from.
Principal Wood: I couldn't bust a move in high school, let alone someone's ass.
Cassie: Summers... hey, are you the counselor's little sister?
Xander (looking at Cassie's medical record): Strep throat, ear infections, yeast infections, none of my business.
Willow: Have you Google'd her yet?
Xander: Poems. Always a sign of pretentious inner turmoil.
Willow: I mean, a lot of teens post some pretty angsty poetry on the web. I even posted a melodramatic love poem or two back in the day.
Willow: You join chat rooms, you write poetry, you post Doogie Howser fanfic. It's all normal, right? (Buffy gives her a look indicating that no, that's not so normal.)
Dawn: Guys, I'm telling you, I'm liking Mike Helgenburg for the perp. Let's collar him before he lawyers up.
Cassie: You think I want this? You think I don't care? Believe me, I want to... be here, do things. I wanna graduate from high school, and I wanna go to the stupid Winter Formal. I have this friend, and... it would be fun to go with him. Just to dance and hear lame music. To wear a silly dress and... laugh and stuff. (She sniffles.) I'd like to go. There's a lot of stuff I'd like to do. I'd love to ice skate, at Rockefeller Center. And I'd love to see my cousins grow up and see how they turn out 'cause they're really mean and I think they're gonna be fat. I'd love to backpack across the country, or... I don't know... fall in love. But I won't. I just never will.
Spike: If I don't move, if I don't think, if I don't listen to the voices, then I won't hurt. Much.
Spike: There's evil... down here. Right here. I'm a bad man. William is a bad man. I hurt the girl.
Spike: Don't- don't leave me. Stay here, and help me be quiet.
Mike: You're Dawn's sister, right?
Buffy (to Peter): Do you know how lame this is? Bored teenage boys trying to raise up a demon. Sorry it didn't show. I bet it's because you forgot the boombox playing some heavy metal thing, like... Blue Clam Cult? I think that's the key to the raising of lame demons.
Cassie (to Spike): She'll tell you. Someday she'll tell you.
Peter: Help! Help me please, I'm bleeding.
Buffy: See? You can make a difference.
Dawn: I guess sometimes you can't help.