Buffy: I'd like to find Willow and Xander.
Joyce: Will you be slaying?
Buffy: Only if they give me lip.

Xander: Check it out. The Watcher is back on the clock. And just when you were thinking career change, maybe becoming a... a looker or a... a seer.

Oz: Hey, so you're not wanted for murder anymore.
Buffy: Good. That was such a drag.
Xander: So where were you? Did you go to Belgium?
Buffy: Why would I go to Belgium?
Xander: I think the relevant question is why wouldn't you? Bel-gium!

Xander: Whatever, we were kicking a little undead booty.

Buffy: What about home schooling? You know, it's not just for scary religious people anymore.

Oz: Well, I like it. I think you should call it Patches.

Oz: We should figure out what kinda deal this is. I mean, is it a-a gathering, a shindig or a hootenanny?
Cordelia: What's the difference?
Oz: Well, a gathering is brie, mellow song stylings; shindig, dip, less mellow song stylings, perhaps a large amount of malt beverage; and hootenanny, well, it's chock full of hoot, just a little bit of nanny.
Xander: Well, I hate brie.
Cordelia: I know. It smells like Giles' cat.
Giles: It's not my...

Xander: Okay, so one vote from the Old Guy for a Smelly Cheese Night, and how many votes for actual fun, huh?

Giles: Unbelievable. 'Do you like my mask? Isn't it pretty? It raises the dead!' Americans.

Xander: Look. I'm sorry that your honey was a demon, but most girls don't hop a Greyhound over boy troubles.

Giles: Cordelia, it's me! It's me!
Cordelia: How do we know it's really you and not zombie Giles?
Giles: Cordelia, do stop being tiresome.
Cordelia: It's him.

Xander: Generally speaking, when scary things get scared: not good.