[Lorne startles a woman in the library.]
Claire: You.. You're.. here for the children's reading program.
Lorne: Yes. Yes I am.
Claire: It's not until tomorrow morning.
Lorne: I know. I never perform without checking out the space first. Get a feel for the room.
Claire: Oh. Well. The kids will flip over your costume. It looks so authentic.
Lorne: Thank you.
Claire: Except for the horns. But those are probably hard to fake.
Lorne: If you only knew.

[Lorne was telling Angel what he saw in the future of Gene Rainey, the physicist, when Gene was singing.]
Lorne : The most remarkable thing about him was that there was absolutely nothing remarkable about him at all.

[Lorne, Gunn, Fred, and Cordelia are watching Wesley and Angelus on the monitor set up on the front desk.]
Angelus: [on monitor] Come on, Wes. Not like your schoolgirl crush is a secret.
Fred: Charles, remember, we can't believe anything Angelus says.
Gunn: How 'bout the stuff that's true? Can we believe that?
Cordelia: He distorts everything. He lies with the truth. It's part of what makes him so dangerous.
Lorne: Yeah, don't let him get to you, kiwi.
Gunn: He's not the only one that's gettin'.
Fred: Charles...
Gunn: I know. I know.
Fred: It's just words.
Wesley: [on monitor] You've found a vulnerability, exploited it. Well done. Can we move on now?
Angelus: I'm just getting started.

[On Bethany leaving]
Angel: You gotta learn to lose, sweetie.
Lilah: Did I mention you're not invited in?

[Oven timer dings. Wes checks his sole.]
Cordelia: [off] They're done! Nobody touch.
Angel: I think she's making brownies.
Wesley: Oh, is that what I smell. I thought I tracked something in.
Cordelia: [enters] The recipe was handed down to me from my mother, who got it from her housekeeper, plus I improvised a little. You're gonna love 'em!
Wesley: Me?!
Cordelia: Uh huh!
Wesley: Doesn't Angel have to... get to... try any?
Cordelia: They're brownies full of nutty goodness, not red blood cells.
Wesley: Oh. I wasn't thinking. More of a drinker than an eater, I suppose.
Cordelia: [having difficulty cutting] Maybe if you'd branch out into the solids he'd keep a decent knife around. [starts to hack in pan with special enchanted Keck knife]
Wesley: [shooting to feet] That is not appropriate! It's for killing extinct demons! Angel, make her stop!!
Angel: [smiling] Cordelia...
Wesley: That blade is very old! Who knows what kind of corrosive effect your cooking may have on it?
Cordelia: [brandishing knife] 'Corrosive effect'?
Angel: Cordelia, just.. put down the very sharp knife...
Wesley: Well, they don't smell right.
Cordelia: I think Mr. Too-Much-Cologne is the pot calling the kettle stinky.

[Rebecca leans over a slightly woozy looking Angel twirling his champagne glass.]
Angel: I used to be, uh, a long time ago. I hurt a lot of people.
Rebecca: I don't believe that.
Angel: No, it's true. I was bad. Which is why I have to help people now. I'm trying to atone.
Rebecca: Cordelia says you've saved the world.
Angel: Couple times I helped. But I almost had it sucked into hell once too.
Rebecca: Still, don't you think after all this time you deserve some happiness?
Angel: [laughs] That's probably not a good idea. Hm. You smell so good. [Rebecca is running one hand under his shirt. Angel looks pretty spaced out.] So warm. I miss that.
Rebecca: You don't have to. You can have what you've been craving all these long, empty years. We both can. Forever.
Angel: Woah, woah. What are you saying?
Rebecca: You know what I'm saying. [Exposes her neck to him.] Do it. We won't have to be lonely, either one of us, ever again.
Angel: You're wrong. You don't know what it is you're asking me to do.
Rebecca: Of course I know. I'm not a fool. There is a price. I understand that.
Angel: You couldn't possibly understand.
Rebecca: I wasn't afraid, was I? When I looked into the mirror and you weren't there I didn't scream. I didn't run. I understood.
Angel: No. You weren't afraid. You looked into that mirror and all you saw was yourself. That's all you ever see, Rebecca, and that's what really frightens you. This isn't about the way the studio, the network, or the fans see you. It's about how you see yourself. Your own reflection has been corrupted into something unrecognizable. You think you want to stay the same? What you really want is to make it disappear.
Rebecca: You're supposed to help people. Help me.
Angel: You want me to help you? [Grabs her and pulls her into the kitchen.] Fine!
Rebecca: What are you doing?
[Angel opens the fridge and takes out a red-cross blood bag, still clutching Rebecca's left arm.]
Angel: It's a big decision, Rebecca. Eternity. [Takes the bag and squirts some of the blood into her mouth.] I think you need a taste of what it is you're really asking for. [Rebecca is trying not to gag on the blood. Angel backs away, gasping, staring at the blood-spattered actress in front of him.] I'm sorry, I... [he drops the packet of blood] What did you do to me?
Rebecca: Nothing.
Angel: You put something in my drink.
Rebecca: I just wanted you to relax a little, Angel. Oh, lower the defenses a little.
Angel: [grabs her] What was it?!
Rebecca: Just a little happy pill. [Angel drops his face on her shoulder, panting, and Rebecca starts crying.] Oh god. I'm so sorry.
Angel: Everybody is so sorry.
Rebecca: I just wanted us both to be happy.
Angel: Oh, but I am happy.
Rebecca: You are?
Angel: Yes.
[A low crunch emanates from Rebecca's neck. She screams and backs away holding her shoulder were Angel's face had been. Angel straightens up, in vamp-face.]
Angel: Perfectly happy.

[rips the roof off Lilah's convertible]
Angel: That's cool. The top just comes right off.

[She takes a piece of ice out of her drink and draws a line with it down the middle of Angel's chest. He starts to laugh.]
Angel: Why are you so good to me - after everything I did?
Darla: Because - you and I are one.
[She draws the ice cube across Angel's lips. The phone stops ringing]
Darla: See? I told you it would stop.
[She leans down and they kiss.]'

[Spike and Angel are fighting to reach the Cup of Perpetual Torment.]
Spike: Come on, hero. Tell me more. Teach me what it means. And I'll tell you why you can't stand the bloody sight of me.
Angel: Tell it to your therapist.
Spike: 'Cause every time you look at me, you see all the dirty little things I've done, all the lives I've taken... because of you! Drusilla sired me, but you... you made me a monster.
Angel: I didn't make you, Spike. I just opened up the door, and let the real you out.
Spike: You never knew the real me. Too busy trying to see your own reflection, praying there was someone as disgusting as you in the world, so you could stand to live with yourself. Take a long look, hero. I'm nothing like you!
Angel: No, you're less. That's why Buffy never really loved you, because you weren't me.
Spike: Guess that means she was thinking about you all those times I was putting it to her.

[Spike is poised to drink from the Cup.]
Spike: Probably should've dusted you. But honestly... I don't wanna hear her bitch about it.
Angel: Spike, wait. Wait. That's not a prize you're holding. It's not a trophy. It's a burden. It's a cross. One you're gonna have to bear till it burns you to ashes. Believe me. I know. So ask yourself: Is this really the destiny that was meant for you? Do you even really want it? Or is it that you just want to take something away from me?
Spike: [pauses] Bit of both. [drinks]
Angel: [lunges to try to stop him, but too late.] Spike?
Spike: [drops the cup, stares at Angel, bewildered.] I-it's... Mountain Dew.

[Spike materializes in Angel's office at Wolfram & Hart, and bends over in pain, then realizes he's facing some familiar faces and some strangers.]
Spike: What? What?
Harmony: What the hell are you doing here, Spike?
Wesley: Harmony, please.
Gunn: This is Spike? *The* Spike?
Fred: Wait a minute. Who's...
Lorne: [calmly, to Spike] Easy, slim. Easy. No one's gonna hurt you.
Gunn: Speak for yourself, Green Jeans.
Fred: OK, would somebody please tell me who...
Wesley: William the Bloody. He's a vampire. One of the worst recorded. Second only to...
Angel: Me. But you're dead.
Harmony: Well, yeah. Who here isn't? [looks around] Besides him and him and her and... [to Lorne] What are you, again?
Spike: [lunges at Angel in game-face, but goes right through him and winds up standing in Angel's desk] Bugger.

[Still dripping, Angel juggles a stack of Cordelia's luggage.]
Cordelia: Get this. I tried to call Doyle--I have sunk that low--and there was no answer. So here I am. Not that you were the last resort, it's just that I had nowhere else left to go. Roaches! Live ones, dead ones, all skinny feet and creepy antlers.
Angel: Antlers?
Cordelia: Oh my God, I wonder how many stowed away in that bag! Also? The water is all brown and spurty and not hot! I am dying for a shower. I actually smell. Smell me. I never smell. I didn't know I could. I'm just going to have to stay here until I find a decent place--however long that takes. And when I do, you're completely invited over. Hey, you can just dump my stuff on your couch. Or let me have the bed... whatever you feel good about. Also, my suitcase is still out in the hall.

[The AI team is rebuilding Angel's apartment after an earthquake.]
The Groosalugg: [gravely] Angel... You and I have fought side by side on more than one occasion. Fellow warriors, shoulder to shoulder. By now, my counsel must assuredly hold weight, so I beseech you to heed my words.
Angel: Mmm... oo-kay...
Groo: Pomegranate Mist is the wrong color for this room.

[The Angel Investigations team is at the home of a wealthy new client.]
Cordelia: Oh, I've missed that smell!
Wesley: Camembert, I believe.
Cordelia: What? No, money. I like to smell a little money once in a while.
Angel: She's not just saying that. Hide some in the office sometime and watch her. It's uncanny.

[The day after the party.]
Cordelia: I'm so glad you came. You know how parties are. You're always worried that no one's going to suck the energy out of the room like a giant black hole of boring despair. But there you were in the clinch!
Angel: I didn't... Boring?
Cordelia: You used to be a person! Did you never party? Did people not gather in olden times?
Angel: I talked to people. Laura.
Cordelia: Okay, Laura thought you hated her. I had to tell her you were challenged.
Angel: I don't hate her. I, I've got two modes with people: bite and avoid. Hard to shift. Plus, I can't get too close. I mean, with women...
Cordelia: You can be nice. It's not like Laura's gonna throw you down on the living room floor and tear off all of your... Well, actually, Laura...
Angel: I'll try harder. Still, I mean, the quiet, reserved thing, don't you think it makes me kind of... I don't know, cool?
Cordelia: [points at Wesley, just entering] He... was cooler.
Angel: [sits down hard on sofa] Now I'm depressed.