Buffy: Vocal-cord-wise, yes. With each other? No.
Buffy: If I were to stop saving his life, it would simple things up so much.
Giles: I've taught you all I can about being a slayer, and your mother taught you what you needed to know about life. You, you're not gonna trust that until you're forced to stand alone.
Buffy: But why now? Now that you know where I've been, what I'm going through?
Giles: Now more than ever. The temptation to give up is gonna be overwhelming, and I can't let-
Buffy: So I won't! No giving up. You can be here, and I can still be strong.
Dawn: Hurry up. You don't wanna miss the lowdown on our latest featured creature.
Giles: Spike?
Anya: Holy moly.
Spike: You need to give me asylum.
Xander: I'll say.
Spike: No need to get cute. It's a disguise. Happens there's a bloke I'd rather not see just now.
Dawn: Who, who are you people?
Giles: We'll all get our memory back, and it'll all be right as rain.
Spike: Oh, listen to Mary Poppins. He's got his crust all stiff and upper with that nancy-boy accent. You Englishmen are always so... hell! Sodding, blimey, shagging, knickers, bollocks, oh God! I'm English!
Giles: Welcome to the nancy tribe.
Spike: You don't suppose you and I ... we're not related, are we?
Anya: There is a ruggedly handsome resemblance.
Giles: And you do inspire a particular feeling of familiarity and disappointment.
Spike: 'Made with care for Randy.' Randy Giles? Why not just call me 'Horny Giles,' or 'Desperate for a Shag Giles'? I knew there was a reason I hated you!
Giles: Randy's a family name, undoubtedly.
Dawn: So you don't have a name?
Buffy: Of course I do. I just don't happen to know it.
Dawn: You want me to name you?
Buffy: Oh, that's sweet, but I think I can name myself. I'll name me Joan.
Dawn: Ugh!
Buffy: What? Did you just 'ugh' my name?
Dawn: No! I just ... I mean, it's so blah. Joan?
Buffy: I like it. I feel like a Joan.
Dawn: Fine, that's your purgative.
Buffy: Prerogative.
Dawn: Whatever, Joan.
Buffy: Whatever, Umad.
Buffy: Any suggestions on how we're gonna get there?
Spike: Dad can drive. He's bound to have some classic midlife-crisis transport. Something red, shiny, shaped like a penis.
Buffy: Monsters are real. Did we know this?
Buffy: I think I know why Joan's the boss. I'm like a superhero or something!
Anya: This is the book for us.
Giles: Oh, good. Does it focus on mind control, or-or memory loss?
Anya: Not exactly, I just, um ... my intuition tells me this is the book. And I figure being a magic shop owner and a natural at the supernatural, I should trust my intuition.
Giles: Y-yes, fine, but as you recall, I too am a magic shop owner.
Anya: True, but my intuition says that you're not so much the magic guy and more of a paperwork type. Okay, here we go.
Spike: I must be a noble Vampire. A good guy. On a mission of redemption. I help the hopeless. I'm a Vampire with a soul.
Buffy: A Vampire with a soul? Oh my god, how lame is that?
Giles: Come down, and we will go about fixing this in a sensible fashion!
Anya: Sensible! You think it's sensible for me to go down into that pit of cotton-top hell, and let them hippity-hop all over my vulnerable flesh?
Giles: Fine, then just stay up there and keep making bunnies! That's a capital plan!
Anya: What capital? I never know what you're talking about. Loo, shag, brolly, what the hell is all that?
Giles: What? There's no way that you could remember me saying any of those words.
Anya: Oh, bugger off, you brolly.
Buffy: Note to self: learn to duck.
Willow: How you doin', Dawn?
Dawn: Uh, I'm okay. It's scary ... but, weirdly? Kind of familiar.
Willow: I know what you mean.
Dawn: How are you?
Willow: A little confused. I mean, I'm all sweaty and trapped, no memory, hiding in a pipe from a Vampire. And I think I'm kinda gay.
Giles: Look what you've done, you lunatic woman!
Anya: Don't blame me, you snobby, snotty, thinks he's so great kind of jerk ... and I feel compelled to take some vengeance on you.