Fred: So, you don't worry that it's possible for someone to send out a biological or electronic trigger that effectively overrides your own sense of ideals and values, and replaces them with an alternative coercive agenda that reduces you to little more than a mindless meat puppet?
Shopkeeper: Wow. People used to think that I was paranoid. I mean, don't get me wrong. I still got the implants in my head. C.I.A. is still listening in. It just doesn't bother me anymore. Instead, I--I beam Jasmine's love up to their satellite, you know? Share the love with those MK-Ultra bastards.

Fred: That's the tragic beauty of a cosmic convergence. I- I mean, he just plays his own small part. He comes here looking for Angel and Darla, and in the process ends up finding Angel's unborn child. Who, as it turns out, wasn't evil at all as we feared, but was actually meant to be some sort of Messianic figure. But Holtz kills it before it's even born, and his vengeance somehow triggers the end of the world! (pause, off everyone's looks) Or not. It could go either way. Have you thought of a name yet?

Fred: We have to find a dress for you. Something that'll make Angel go crazy.
Cordelia: Fred, sweetie, Angel is crazy.

Fred: Who's Darla?
Gunn: Angel's old flame, from way back.
Fred: Not the one who died?
Gunn: Yeah. No, not that one, the other one that died and came back to life. She's a vampire.
Fred: Do y'all have a chart or somethin'?
Gunn: In the files. I'll get it for you later.

Fred: Will it make a difference? We really are just pieces being moved around a board.
Gunn: Then we'll kick it over and start a new game. Look, monochrome can yap all he wants about no-name's cosmic plan, but here's a little something I picked up rubbing mojos these past couple of years. The final score can't be rigged. I don't care how many players you grease, that last shot always comes up a question mark. But here's the thing--you never know when you're taking it. It could be when you're duking it out with the Legion of Doom, or just crossing the street deciding where to have brunch. So you just treat it all like it was up to you--the world in the balance--'cause you never know when it is.

Fred: You play golf? Since--what?
Gunn: All part of the mojo the big boys installed. Half the cases that cross our desk are settled out on the links before they ever make it to trial.
Fred: Nine holes instead of a jury of your peers. Just what the founding fathers had in mind.

Fred: You went to Wesley's for me. He's the one who told you how to save me.
Gunn: Yeah. He made it clear. That's a door none of us is ever going to be knocking on again.

Gavin: [About Linwood] He's gonna crucify us.
Lilah: They don't crucify here. It's too Christian.

Gene Rainey: In Newton's world, space and time are separate entities. In Einstein's, they're entwined.
Val: "Einstein's -- entwined." Can you say that ten times, really fast?

Groo: Summer Splendor is a hue more worthy of a champion. Or, perhaps this unique one called "purpla".
Angel: Purple. Yet you have no problems pronouncing pomegranate.
Groo: It was my mother's name.
Angel: (sarcastically) What are the odds?

Groosalugg: Might I further relieve you by at first gently and then more rapidly rubbing your schlug-tee?
Cordelia: Uh, I don't really, um... Maybe later at home. [whispers] I don't feel comfortable doing it in the office, Groo.
Groosalugg: Doing it?
Cordelia: Sex.
Groosalugg: [too loudly] Oh, you wish to have sex!
Cordelia: What? No! Shh!
Groosalugg: I was proposing a massage of your schlug-tee. Your tense neck muscle. But, it is always an honor to make sex with you! [whispers] Later at home. I understand perfectly.

Groosalugg: [upon hearing Angel's cellphone] Angel, your coat is singing.

Groosalugg: Is it dangerous? For Gunn and I can protect you.
Lorne: Well, no, it's not dangerous, it's just awkward. This guy's all hands. I mean, all hands, like fifty of 'em. Anybody fluent in sign language?

Groosalugg: Princess, perhaps your newfound powers can seal it shut.
Cordelia: Can't hurt to try.
[raises her hands]
Cordelia: I command you close!
[nothing happens]
Chase: Okay, I got nothin'.

Gunn: (after Fred's invention launches an axe through the Durslar beast's head) So. Not a toaster.