Gunn: I'll say please.
Cordelia: Oh I forgot, you'll use your famous charm like you did this afternoon with that pigeon stool.
Gunn: It's stool pigeon.

Gunn: No matter what else, I think I proved that you can trust me when I could have killed you and I didn't.
Angel: No. You'll prove that I can trust you when the day comes that you have to kill me -- and you do.

Gunn: No way. We make our own choices.
Skip: Yeah, sure. Cheese sandwich here, uh, when to floss. But the big stuff, like two vampires squeezing out a kid?
Angel: Connor.
Wesley: An impossible birth to make one possible.
Skip: That's what the kid was designed for.
Lorne: To sleep with mother love?
Angel: To create a vessel.
Skip: Look out. The monkey's thinking again.
Angel: Being inside a human makes it vulnerable, doesn't it? That's why it had to stay hidden. Why it needed to create something stronger to pour itself into.
Gunn: Wait. So the big nasty inside of Cordy is going to give birth... to itself?

Gunn: Now, instead of just worryin' about big bad rock-eater, we got Darth Vampire livin' in the basement.

Gunn: OK, so what are we dealing with?
Fred: Eight legs, three heads, horns...?
Lorne: Hey!
Fred: No offense.
Connor: Two legs, one head, no horns.
Lorne: Lemme guess: green?
Angel: No. Kind of.... mocha.

Gunn: Okay, I'm still tryin' to get this family tree straight. Darla sired Angel.
Wesley: Correct.
Gunn: And Angel sired this Drusilla.
Wesley: Back when he and Darla were together, yes.
Gunn: But, before Angel got his soul back, right?
Wesley: Certainly.
Gunn: Now these lawyers, they brought Darla back as human. Now this Drusilla vamp goes and bites Darla?
Wesley: So it would seem.
Gunn: Making her a vampire again.
Wesley: That's the cosmological upshot, yes. Darla's human self has died, and some time before dawn, unless Angel can stop it, she will rise again, a soulless demon.
Gunn: So that means...
Wesley: Clock is ticking.
Gunn: No, no, what I'm sayin' is, that means the granddaughter remade the grandmother.
Wesley: Oh. Yes.
Gunn: Man, somehow that weirds me out more than the whole blood-suckin' thing.

Gunn: So that's our big plan? Just keep running?
Lorne: Oh, I hear some good things about Belize!

Gunn: So you had an epiphany, did you?
Angel: Yeah.
Gunn: So ... what? You just wake up, and 'bang'?
Angel: Sort of the other way around.

Gunn: So...werewolf girl. Think you got a shot?
Angel: She gave me a look.
Wesley: Really? A look?

Gunn: Still not sure why Blondie Ghost tagged along.
Spike: Not much choice really, is there? Can't drink, smoke, diddle my willy. Doesn't leave much to do other than watch you blokes stumble around playing Agatha Christie.
Wesley: Yeah, remind me again how you ended up in the front seat.
Spike: Called shotgun, mate.
Wesley: Oh. [pulls up a shotgun] I thought we were doing a weapons check.
Gunn: Nothing wrong with that. [pulls up an axe] We may need these bad boys if we're going up against some Mexican Day of the Dead heart-sucking monster.
Wesley: Angel, the church we're looking for is about half a mile... [Angel suddenly spins the car around in a 180]
Spike: Always was a bit of a drama queen.

Gunn: Those men you sent to create a diversion are going to get killed.
Wesley: Yes, they are. [pause] You try not to get anybody killed, you wind up getting everybody killed.

Gunn: What about her--If her organs have been liquefied?
Spike: [raises hand] Flash fried in a pillar of fire, savin' the world. I got better.

Gunn: Where's Cordy?
Wesley: We don't know. Not here.
Gunn: You check her pad?
Angel: I stopped by there earlier.
Gunn: You enjoying your visit to 1973? I meant her message pad.
Angel: Oh right, that's a good idea. [Picks up a pencil] Oh, here. Use this you can make a rubbing of the impressions she left, see what the last thing was that she wrote.
Gunn: Or we could just read the carbon.
Angel: [Drops the pencil] Or you can do that.

Gwen: Demon, okay? The whole nine: cloven feet and horns and teeth and... he wasn't wearing lamé, though.
Lorne: Yeah, the evil ones can't pull it off. It gets camp.

Hamilton: [To Angel] You're gutter trash, and that's where you should have stayed, drinking and whoring your way through an unremarkable life. But the fates stepped in and made you a vampire, with a soul, no less. A champion. A hero of the people. And yet, you still managed to fail everyone around you. Doyle. Cordelia. Fred. They're all gone. Now it's time you followed.