Buffy - Season 3

Giles: I mean, I appreciate your efforts to keep the vampire population down until Buffy returns, but if anything should happen to you, or you... should be killed, I should take it somewhat amiss.
Willow: You'd be cranky?
Giles: Entirely.
Willow: Well, we try not to get killed. That's part of our whole mission statement: "Don't get killed."

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

Buffy: Fine, okay, I can take my lumps. For awhile.
Willow: All right, I'll stop giving you a hard time. (pause) Runaway.
Buffy: Will!
Willow: I'm sorry ... quitter.
Buffy: Whiner.
Willow: Bailer.
Buffy: Harpy.
Willow: Delinquent.
Buffy: Tramp.
Willow: Bad seed.
Buffy: Witch.
Willow: Freak.

Spike: She wouldn't even kill me. She just left. She didn't even care enough to cut off my head or set me on fire. I mean, is that too much to ask? You know? Some little sign that she cared?

Spike: You're not friends. You'll never be friends. You'll be in love 'til it kills you both. You'll fight, and you'll shag, and you'll hate each other 'til it makes you quiver, but you'll never be friends. Love isn't brains, children, it's blood -- blood screaming inside you to work its will. I may be love's bitch, but at least I'm man enough to admit it.

Spike: Oh, sod the spell. Your friends are at the factory. [smiling.] I'm really glad I came here, you know? I've been all wrongheaded about this. Weeping, crawling, blaming everybody else. I want Dru back, I've just gotta be the man I was, the man she loved. I'm gonna do what I shoulda done in the first place: I'll find her, wherever she is, tie her up, torture her, until she likes me again.

Willow: Mom, I'm not acting out, I'm a witch! I can make pencils float! And I can summon the four elements! Okay, two, but four soon. And I'm dating a musician!
Mrs. Rosenberg: Oh, Willow.
Willow: I worship Beelzebub. I do his biddings! Do you see any goats around? No! 'Cause I sacrificed them!
Mrs. Rosenberg: Willow, please...
Willow: All bow before Satan!
Mrs. Rosenberg: I'm not listening to this.
Willow: Prince of Night, I summon you! Come fill me with your black, naughty evil!

Xander: You know, maybe we're on the wrong track with the whole spell, curse and whammy thing. Maybe what we should be looking for is something like... Slayer kryptonite.
Oz: Faulty metaphor. Kryptonite kills.
Xander: You're assuming I was talking about the green kryptonite. I was referring, of course, to the red kryptonite, which drains Superman of all his powers.
Oz: Wrong. The gold kryptonite's the power-sucker. The red kryptonite mutates Superman into some sort of weird --
Buffy: Guys, reality!

Buffy: Do you remember the demon that almost got out the night I died?
Willow: Every nightmare I have that doesn't revolve around academic failure or public nudity is about that thing. In fact, once ... I dreamt that it attacked me while I was late for a test and naked.

Willow: Chemistry is easy. It's a lot like witchcraft, only less newt.

Faith: Thanks, sugar daddy.
Mayor Wilkins: Now Faith, you know I don't like that. I'm a family man. Now, let's kill your little friend.

Vamp Willow: This is a dumb world. In my world, there are people in chains, and we can ride them like ponies.

Wesley: And you say this demon wanted cash? That's very unusual.
Giles: Demons after money. Whatever happened to the still beating heart of a virgin? No one has any standards anymore.

Buffy: I know this. It's down by the bus station. Not the nicest part of town.
Giles: Again. See, no standards. I mean, any self-respecting demon should be living in a pit of filth or a nice crypt.

Buffy: You had sex with Giles? You had sex with Giles?!
Joyce: It was the candy! We were teenagers!
Buffy: On the hood of a police car?!
Joyce: [goes to leave, glances back] I'll be downstairs. [exits] You feel better!
Buffy: Twice!?

Buffy: Looks like a job for Wiccan girl. What do you say, Will? Big-time danger.
Willow: Hey, I eat danger for breakfast.
Xander: But oddly enough, she panics in the face of breakfast foods.

Cordelia: I personally don't think it's possible to come up with a crazier plan.
Oz: We attack the Mayor with hummus.
Cordelia: I stand corrected.