Quotes from Angel, Season 1


City of…

Angel: 'Scuse me. I'm sorry. Has anyone seen my car? It's big and shiny.

Doyle: Well, I like the place. Not much with the view, but it's got a nice Bat-Cave sort of an air to it.

Angel: You don't smell human.
Doyle: Well, that's a bit rude. As it happens I'm very much human...on my mother's side.

Doyle: I've been sent. By the Powers That Be.
Angel: Powers that be what?

Doyle: It's about reaching out to people. Showing them that there's love and hope still left in this world.
Homeless Woman: Got any spare change?
Doyle: Get a job you lazy sow.

Doyle: I get visions. Which is to say great splitting migraines that come with pictures.

Angel: Why would a woman I've never met even talk to me?
Doyle: Have you looked in a mirror lately? No, I guess... you really haven't. No.

Angel: I'm not good with people.

Angel: So, uh, are you.... happy?
Tina: What?
Angel: You looked sort of down.
Tina: You've been watching me?
Angel: No, I just.... I was... uh... looking towards there. And you walked.... through there.
Tina: You don't hit on girls very often, do you?
Angel: It's been awhile.

Angel: Where's home?
Tina: Missoula, Montana. You've been to Missoula?
Angel: During the Depression. Uh, my depression. I was depressed there.

Oliver: You are a beautiful, beautiful man.
Angel: Thanks.
Oliver: You're an actor.
Angel: No.
Oliver: That wasn't a question. I'm Oliver. Ask anyone about Oliver. They'll tell you I'm a fierce animal. I'm your manager as soon as you call.
Angel: I'm not an actor.
Oliver: Funny. I like the humor. I like the whole thing. Call me. This isn't a come on. I'm in a very serious relationship with a landscape architect.

Cordelia: So, um, are you still.... "GRRR"?
Angel: Yeah, there's not actually a cure for that.

Cordelia: Well, I better get mingling. I really should be talking to people that *are* somebody. But it was fun!
Angel: It's nice that she's grown as a person.

Tina: Nice party, huh?
Angel: A little too fabulous for me.

Angel: I made some tea.
Tina: Thanks.
Angel: You take milk and sugar?
Tina: Yeah.
Angel: Cuz, I don't have those things.

Doyle: You can't cut yourself off.
Angel: Doyle, I don't want to share my feelings. I don't want to open up. I wanna find the guy that killed Tina, and I wanna look him in the eye.
Doyle: Then what?
Angel: Then I'm gonna share my feelings.

Stacy: You have no idea who you're dealing with here.
Angel: Russell? Let me guess. Not big on the daylight or the mirrors. Drinks a lot of V-8.

Doyle: Wow, you're really going to war here. I guess you've seen a few in your time, yeah?
Angel: 14. Not including Vietnam. They never declared it.

Doyle: Well, listen, best of luck to ya man. I've got some fairly large coin riding on the Vikings tonight, but I'll be there with you in spirit, yeah?
Angel: You're driving.
Doyle: Wait a minute! No, no! I'm not combat ready, man. I'm just the messenger!
Angel: And, I'm the message.

Cordelia: Oh god. I'm sorry. I'm getting all weepy in front of you. I probably look really scary. I finally get invited to a nice place with... no mirrors... and .... lots of curtains.... Hey, you're a vampire!
Russell: What? No I'm not.
Cordelia: Are too.
Russell: I don't know what you're talking about.
Cordelia: I'm from Sunnydale. We had our own Hellmouth! I think I know a vampire when I ... am... alone with him in his fortress like home, and I you know I think I'm just feeling a little light-headed from hunger. I'm just wacky! And kidding!

Cordelia: You don't know who he is, do you? Oh boy, you're about to get your ass kicked!

Cordelia: Finally! I thought I was going to faint while barfing!

Russell: Angel. We do things a certain way in L.A.
Angel: Well I'm new here.
Russell: But you're a civilized man. We don't have to go around attacking each other. Look at me. I pay my taxes. I keep my name out of the paper. And I don't make waves. And in return, I can do anything I want.
Angel: Really? Can you fly?...Guess not.

Doyle: What happened to Russell?
Angel: He went into the light.

Cordelia: I was just saying that if we're going to be helping people out, maybe a small charge. A fee. You know something to help pay the rent. And.... my salary. You need someone to organize things and you're not exactly rolling in it Mr. I-Was-Alive-for-200-Years-and-Never-Developed-an-Investment-Portfolio.

Angel: You want to charge people?
Cordelia: Well not everybody, but sooner or later we are going to have to help some rich people, right?

Cordelia: Of course this is just temporary, until my inevitable stardom takes effect!

Doyle: You made a good choice. She'll provide a connection to the world. She's got a very ... humanizing influence.
Angel: You think she's a hottie.
Doyle: Ah, yeah, she's a stiffener alright. I can't lie about that.


Lonely Hearts

Doyle: Instead, you're moping around the dark like some kind of...
Angel: Vampire?
Doyle: Well, I was gonna say slacker...but yeah, to you Mr. Obvious.

Doyle: Tell her what a great guy I am.
Angel: I barely know you.
Doyle: Perfect. That should make it easier for you then.

Doyle: Great idea. Calling cards. Its not like you have a signal folks can shine in the sky whenever they need help.

Angel: Look at that, there's our number right next to...a...uh...butterfly?
Doyle: It's obviously not a butterfly, you idiot. It's a bird. No, no wait...it's an owl...no...

Doyle: See, you need to chat people up a bit more casual like, you know? "Hi, what's your name? How's life treating you? What's that you say? Minions from hell getting you down?"

Angel: Seriously, I wasn't hitting on you.

Angel: I'm not good at this...talking.

Angel: Basically I help...uh...I'm a veterinarian.

Doyle: Violence is not gonna solve a thing...on the other hand, it's kind of festive.

Angel: This socializing thing is brutal. I mean, I was young once. I used to go to bars. It was never like this.
Doyle: No, you used to go to taverns.

Cordelia: Well, a couple hundred years ago, the only thing you had to worry about was a hangover. Today, cause of your curse thingy, you can't sleep with anyone or else you might feel a moment of true happiness and lose your soul, become evil -again- and kill everyone.
Angel: Thanks Cordelia. I always appreciate your perspective.
Cordelia: No problem.

Kate: I can go wherever I want...and you can go to Hell.
Angel: Been there, done that.

Cordelia: I've known a lot of demons, and slime aside, not a lot going on there.

Angel: You actually live here?
Cordelia: Yes, okay? Is it my fault that maid service was interrupted? It was supposed to go home, hotel, hotel, husband. Now, can we move on?

Angel: It's a burrower.
Cordelia: It's a donkey? We didn't see any donkey demons.

Angel: I know you guys have been working hard. Cooped up inside a lot and to show my appreciation, I was think, the night bein', you know, young and all, that the three of us could...should...maybe uh....go out. You know, for fun.
Cordelia: Or, we can go home.
Doyle: And you could sit in the dark, alone.
Angel: God yes. Thank you.


In the Dark

(girly voice) "How can I thank you, you mysterious black-clad-hunk-of-a-knight-thing?"
(manly voice) "No need little lady. Your tears of gratitude are enough for me. You see, I was once a bad-ass vampire. But love, and a pesky curse, defanged me. And now, I'm just a big fluffy puppy with bad teeth. No! Not the hair! Never the hair."
(girly voice) "But there must be some way I can show my appreciation."
(manly voice) "No, helping those in need's my job. And working up a load of sexual tension and prancing away like a magnificent poof is truly thanks enough."
(girly voice) "I understand. I have a nephew who's gay, so..."
(manly voice) "Say no more. Evil's still afoot. And I'm almost out of that Nancy-boy hair gel I like so much. Quickly! To the Angel-mobile! Away!"

Spike: Go on with you. Play the big strapping hero while you can. You have a few surprises coming your way: the Ring of Amarra, a visit from your old pal Spike, and--oh yeah--your gruesome, horrible death.

Cordelia: So, why are you not rejoicing at our first paying client?
Doyle: Cuz that's not money in your hand darlin'. That's mail.

Doyle: All I'm saying is, if you and I ever hope to take that cruise to the Bahamas together, we're going to need a lot more clients with means.
Cordelia: And an alternate reality in which you're Matthew McConaughey.

Oz: Hello, L.A.
Cordelia: Oz? Oh my god. Oz! I am so happy to see you! Good old Oz! Oz. Oz!
Doyle: Let me just take a stab at this, but... you'd be Oz?
Oz: Good guess. 
Cordelia: This is so cool! I mean, here you are, in L.A., and you're the total embodiment of all things Sunnydale!
Oz: Well, it's a burden, but I manage.
Cordelia: Okay, we have serious catching up to do. How's everything? How's... how's the Bronze?
Oz: The same.
Cordelia: And the gang?
Oz: They're good.
Cordelia: Good? Good. Good.
Oz: We done?
Cordelia: Completely.

Cordelia: This is Doyle. He, air quote, works here.

Oz: You guys are, like, detectives?
Cordelia: No. I'm an actress.
Doyle: And quite a captivating one at that.
Cordelia: And between my many gigs, I sometimes choose to help Angel.

Angel: Oz.
Oz: Angel.
Angel: Nice surprise.
Oz: Thanks.
Angel: Staying long?
Oz: Few days.
Doyle: They always like this?
Oz: No, we're usually laconic.

Cordelia: Hey, Buffy. How is good old Buffy anyway?
Oz: She's....
Cordelia: What? Still the brave little Slayer? Or is she moping around in the dark like... nobody around here.

Cordelia: Okay, you're getting weird with this ring. Since when did you get all Versace about accessorizing?

Doyle: Just think of it, man: pool-side tanning, bargain matinees, plus there are several strip clubs I know of that have a fabulous luncheon buffet that's really quite tasty..... I've heard.

Oz: Your old buddy Spike dug up Sunnydale looking for it and got a fistful of Buffy and left it behind. She wanted to be sure it was in good hands.
Angel: So she sent you.
Oz: I was heading this way.
Cordelia: And she didn't even send a note? Wow, that's really.... this is one of those times when I should shy away from the topic, isn't it?

Doyle: I got something that'll boost your spirits. Why don't you put it on, and here, I'll stake ya. It'll be fun!

Doyle: Okay, you have it your way, but I'm still going to celebrate with a drink down at the pub.
Cordelia: He'd celebrate the opening of a mailbox with a drink down at the pub.

Doyle: You know what'd feel really good right now? One of those mind-numbing, head-cracking visions that I get from time to time. Because that'd really kill me. What, is there some kind of trick to this?
Cordelia: I think the trick is laying off the ale before you start quoting Angela's Ashes and weeping like a baby man.
Doyle: Hey, that's a good book.
Cordelia: So I've heard. But I doubt very much that the main characters are Betty and Barney Rubble, as you so vehemently insisted last night. Also, I don't think Oz appreciated being called My Little Bam Bam all night.

Angel: Might as well go home, Spike. The Gem of Amarra stays with me.
Spike: Why? Cuz you're Angel, Vamp Detective now? Ooo. I'm so scared. What's next? Vampire cowboy? Vampire fireman? Oh! Vampire ballerina!
Angel: I do like to work with my legs.

Angel: So, you and I duke it out, huh. This your big strategy for getting the ring back?
Spike: I had a plan.
Angel: You? A plan?
Spike: A good plan. Smart. Carefully laid out. But I got bored. All that watching, waiting. My legs started to cramp. I hate to quip. Just tell me where the damn ring is.
Angel: It wouldn't go with your outfit.

Spike: Cordelia. You look smashing. You lose weight?
Cordelia: Yes! You know, there's this great gym on.... hey!

Cordelia: Please, I couldn't get comfortable here if the floor was lined with mink. I mean, how can you live like this?
Doyle: Well, I didn't until last week, and I saw what you did with your place? I just had to call my decorator.

Doyle: So what about this Spike? Is he as bad as all that? Should I be sweating?
Cordelia: No, he's not so......  {sigh}] Sweat.

Cordelia: Oh! And this one time, he and Dru raised this demon that burned people alive from the inside. It was this whole weird thing with an arm in a box.
Doyle: An arm in a box?

Spike: You caught me fair and square, white hat. Guess there's nothing to do now but go along quietly and pay my debt to society.
Angel: You think you can come to my town and pull this crap? You never learn Spike.
Spike: I may be a slow learner, but eventually I catch on.

Doyle: Maybe not. Maybe he did away with Spike in short order and decided to give a go at surfin'.

Spike: Marcus is an expert. Some say artist, but I've never been comfortable with labels. He's a bloody king of torture, he is. Humans, demons, politicians -- makes no difference. Some say he invented several of the classics, but he won't tell me which ones.

Marcus: His skin.
Spike: Annoying isn't it? Still attached.
Marcus: Over 200 years of living and so little external damage. What about internal?
Spike: Do you two need to be alone? Or can we get on with the ouchie part? 
Marcus: He's known love.
Spike: Yeah, with a Slayer no less. How's that for perversion?
Marcus: And he has a soul.
Spike: Right. Vampire with a soul. Cursey cursed to walk the earth, trying to do good. That's not going to be a problem is it?
Marcus: On the contrary, creatures with souls have something to lose.
Spike: Souls, fingers, toes -- let's get chopping shall we? I want my damn ring.

Angel: Are you going to torture me, or just bore me to death?

Spike: Someone's having shish kebab.

Marcus: What do you want, Angel?
Angel: House in the country. A good pair of running shoes you can also wear out to dinner.

Spike: Why do you keep playing that bleeding Brahms?
Marcus: Actually it's Mozart. Symphony 41. I find it very effective.
Spike: Yeah, well, personally I prefer his older, funnier symphonies myself.

Angel: You hired a vampire. What do you think he's going to do with the ring when he finds it, huh? Hand it over to you?
Spike: Oh! Good lord! Why didn't I think of ... oh, half a mo... I did!

Spike: It's called addiction, Angel. We all have them. I believe yours is named Slutty the Vampire Slayer.

Spike: Speaking of little Buff. I ran into her recently. Your name didn't come up. Although, she has been awful busy jumping the bones of the very first lunkhead who came long. Good looking fellow. Used her shamelessly. She is *cute* when she's hurting, isn't she?
Angel: She's cuter when she's kicking your ass.

Cordelia: When you're through giving the place the full Johnny Depp-over, I hope you have the cash to pay for all this.

Spike: Cordelia. Love the hair.
Cordelia: Wish I could say the same to you.

Spike: What is it with you good guys running in packs? Who's this one then?
Doyle: More than meets the eye, blondie.
Spike: Oooo, the Mick's got spine. Maybe I'll snap it in two.

Doyle: Where's Angel?
Spike: Um, tall, brooding guy? Cave Man brow? He's having the living hell tortured out of him.

Cordelia: I don't trust you.
Spike: To coin a popular Sunnydale phrase: Duh!

Spike: Now, now. Staking the torturer's strictly prohibited.

Spike: Now you made him mad. Wouldn't want to be in your chains.

Cordelia: It's not in the freezer, and it's not in the toilet tank. In the movies, it's always in one of those places.

Cordelia: This is not a needle in a haystack. This is a needle in Kansas.

Cordelia: How did you do that?
Doyle: Well, you gotta get lucky sometimes.
Cordelia: I could hug you! Not *that* lucky.

Spike: I do the work. I do the digging. I fight off a Slayer. Drive to L.A. Hire the help. And what do I get? Royally screwed is what! Well that cinches it. No more partners. From now on, I'm my own man. Lone wolf. Sole survivor. Look out! Here comes Spike! The biggest, baddest mother... aaagh!

Cordelia: We need to get him to a hospital.
Oz: I hear you, but which one? They all tend to specialize in humans.

Cordelia: It's daylight, and you're ringless. Unless you're changing the act to Human Torch, I don't think so!

Marcus: What are you planning to do? Kill me?
Angel: Well, after all, I promised.

Angel: You never cracked me, Marcus. You tried, but you failed. Now that.... that's gotta be torture.

Oz: He's very pale. Paler than most people.

Doyle: So, how long's it been between sunsets?
Angel: 200 years, give or take.

Doyle: It is spectacular, I know, but I do promise there will be another one just like it again tomorrow.
Angel: Not for me.
Doyle: What are you saying, that the city's going to get hit by a meteor before tomorrow night? No, no, it's too horrible to say. I can't even bring myself to say the other...
Angel: I'm not gonna wear the ring.
Doyle: That was the other.

Doyle: You got a real addiction to the brooding part of life, anyone ever tell ya that?
Angel: Once or twice.

Doyle: So what, you don't get the ring because your period of self-flagellation isn't over yet?

Doyle: And who'd look out for all the insomniacs?

Angel: I don't know about you, but I had a nice day. You know, except for the bulk of it where I was nearly tortured to death.
Doyle: Aye, you stood up.
Angel: Oh God. I was this close to tellin' him everything. One more hot poker and I was givin' him the ring, your mom, everything. How *is* your mom?


I Fall to Pieces

Cordelia: I know Angel's been working day and night to help people fight their personal demons. But *I* need a raise.
Doyle: A raise? You've been working for him for, what, 20 minutes?
Cordelia: A month. And I have needs.
Doyle: Needs?
Cordelia: A person... needs... certain... designer... things.
Doyle: Personally, I don't think you need much in the way of clothes.

Doyle: He likes playing the hero. Walking off into the dark, his long coat flowing behind him in that mysterious and attractive way.
Cordelia: Is this a private moment? ‘Cause I could leave you alone.
Doyle: I'm not saying *I'm* attracted....

Cordelia: We're going to stand up to him.
Doyle: We're standing up.
Cordelia: Just as soon as he's had his coffee.

Angel: What is this?
Cordelia: Last week's coffee. Think of it as... espresso!
Angel: I think my esophagus is melting.

Angel: I'm not comfortable asking people for money.
Cordelia: Then get over it!…I mean that in sensitive way.

Doyle: Maybe I'm a *little* attracted.

Angel: Am I intimidating? I mean, do I put people off?
Cordelia: Well, as vampires go, you're pretty cuddly. Maybe you might want to think about mixing up the black-on-black look.

Cordelia: You're a lot smarter than you look. Of course, you look like a retard.

Cordelia: Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless.

Angel: We're gonna help you.
Cordelia: Big time. And for a reasonable fee!

Cordelia: Not everything has to be creepy and supernatural, you know.
Angel: Not everything, but Doyle had a vision.
Cordelia: Which last time led to a sex-changing, body-switching, tear-out-your-innards demon, right. I guess they don't call you for the everyday cases.

Cordelia: Okay, flesh. Anytime you want to stop crawling is okay with me.

Kate: Judging by your uncomfortableness I would say you're either about to ask me out on a date or you need a favor.

Doyle: Oh no, no. I've got the word jumble right here. It'll keep me occupied. Sadly, for most of the day.

Kate: Wolfram & Hart, you know the name?
Angel: I've heard it.
Kate: They're the law firm Johnny Cochran is too ethical to join.

Cordelia: What is stalking nowadays, like, the third most popular sport among men?
Angel: Fourth, after luge.
Cordelia: This guy has a lot to lose. What is it about Melissa that's got him going all O.J. here?

Cordelia: Ugh! What a fun date you must have been back in your Bad Vamp Days. On the other hand, it should give you some insight into the jerks of the world.

Cordelia: Did you steal this book?
Angel: Yeah.
Cordelia: Good.

Doyle: You got any prints?
Angel: Yeah.
Doyle: Good, so we can put him behind bars... for about 90 seconds, until he skitters through 'em. Not a lot of things make me shudder. But this guy? Crawling around under the covers? At least it was just his hands down there.... I wish I hadn't even thought that.

Angel: You don't have to be afraid.
Melissa: You're just duct-taping me in for fun?

Cordelia: Steel boxes? Why would you want.... oh. For packing up people parts. You know, this job. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to have it, god knows it's educational and all, but sometimes....

Cordelia: What did you put in her tea?
Doyle: Enough whiskey to drop my Aunt Judy. And that woman had some girth.
Cordelia: Either you like them, and they don't like you. Or you can't stand them, which just guarantees that they're going to hover around and never go away.
Doyle: I hate guys like that.

Cordelia: It's just so unfair. I mean, this poor girl, she hooks up with a *doctor*. That should be a good thing. You should be able to call home and say "Mom, guess what? I met a *doctor*" not "Guess what, I met a psycho who's stalking me, and oh, by the way, his hands and feet come off, and he's not even in the circus."

Melissa: Angel's right. You're weak.
Ronald: *I'm* weak? Then how is it I killed him?
Angel: Inefficiently.

Cordelia: Oh goody, recycled coffee. My personal favorite.

Melissa: I brought this for you guys. [hands Angel a plant]
Angel: Hope it doesn't need light.

Cordelia: See? You can save a damsel *and* make decent money. Is this a great country or *what*!?

Doyle: Well, still, cause to celebrate.
Cordelia: You think everything's a cause to celebrate.

Cordelia: We need more of these.
Doyle: We'll have more soon enough.
Cordelia: Well, we need them now. Have a vision.
Doyle: I just can't perform on demand.
Cordelia: We need the clients. Have a vision.
Doyle: That money's corrupted you.
Cordelia: If I hit you in the head, will you have a vision?
Doyle: Get away from me -- you're insane! 


Rm w/a Vu

Cordelia: It was a great audition. I was all about things leaking. How could they not pick me?

Doyle: If you ever want to, you know, spend one night away from the place, maybe give me a call.
Cordelia: Well, stranger things have happened. No... wait... they really haven't.

Doyle: Tell me stuff.
Angel: What stuff?
Doyle: About Cordelia.
Angel: Well, I know she can't type or file. 'Til today, I had some hope regarding the phone.

Doyle: Who's Aura?
Angel: I think she's one of Cordelia's group. People called them the Cordettes. A bunch of girls from wealthy families. They ruled the high school, decided what was in, who was popular. It's like the Soviet Secret Police if they cared a lot about shoes.

Doyle: You're all about money. What about friendship and family and all those things that are priceless…like they say in that credit card commercial?!

Cordelia: Get this, I tried to call Doyle--I sunk that low--and there was no answer. So, here I am. Not that you were a last resorts, just that I had nowhere else to go.

Cordelia: 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.

Cordelia: Do you have mousse? Of course you do.

Doyle: Angel, you knew I was crazy about her, and I was wearing her down, too. But no, handsome brooding vampire guy has to swoop in all sensitive mouth and overhanging forehead. How 'bout leaving some scraps for the homely-looking fellows who don't turn evil when they get some.

Angel: I don't eat.
Doyle: Hey, Cordy, you're looking great, by the way.
Cordelia: I wouldn't know, man doesn't have a mirror. Like it would kill him to not see himself.

Doyle: Your high school diploma's all burned.
Cordelia: Yeah. It was a rough ceremony.

Doyle: Finally! What is it with you and Angel? You gotta do everything the hard way.

Cordelia: It's amazing in there. What's wrong with it!?

Realtor: I guess it's your lucky day.
Cordelia: I used to have those, too.

Cordelia: Yes! And part of it being perfect is there being one *tiny* flaw for me to fix.
Doyle: Ah, must be why you find me so fascinating.

Cordelia: I'm from Sunnydale! You're not scaring me you know!

Cordelia: Whoo! Cold wind! Scary. What're you gonna do? Chap me to death?

Cordelia: Wait, what about the rule?
Angel: You said when you got a place I was completely invited over.
Cordelia: What? I didn't even have a place then!

Cordelia: I am not giving up this apartment.
Angel: It's haunted.
Cordelia: It's rent controlled!

Cordelia: Listen, Casper! You haven't won yet. I'll die before I give up this apartment!
Maude Pearson: All right, dear. If that's what you think is best.

Cordelia: This apartment! I could be me again. Punishment over. It's like, welcome back to your life! Like, I couldn't be *that* awful if I get to have a place like that. It's just like you.
Angel: Working for redemption.
Cordelia: Um, I meant because you used to have that mansion.

Cordelia: This is easy. Little old lady ghost. Probably hanging around because she thinks she left the iron on.

Cordelia: Oh goody, another of Doyle's guys. Tell me, is this the same guy that helped me find my poltergeistilicious apartment?

Cordelia: Little old lady ghosts.... how come Patrick Swayze's never dead when you need him?

Kate: Now you're talking like a detective.
Angel: I am a detective.
Kate: Well, see, the thing about detectives is they have resumes and business licenses and last names. Pop stars and popes, those are the one-named guys.
Angel: You got me. I'm a pope.

Doyle: Uh, Angel Investigations, we hope you're helpless.... no wait...

Cordelia: I'm not a sniveling, whining little cry-Buffy. I'm the nastiest girl in Sunnydale history. I take crap from no one!

Cordelia: Back off Polygrip!! You think you're bad? All mean and haunty? Picking on poor pathetic Cordy. Well, get ready to haul your wrinkly translucent ass outta this place, cuz lady.... the Bitch is back.

Maude Pearson: Do you think I'm going to take that from trash like you?
Cordelia: I'll tell you what I think. I think you're going to pack your little ghost bags and get the hell out of MY HOUSE!!!

Doyle: You did it.
Cordelia: Yeah, well, she pissed me off.

Cordelia: Hey, hey, phantom Dennis. Put that back! Dennis! When I'm on the phone, that's quiet time.


Sense and Sensitivity

Kate: Supervisor Caffrey shot himself?
Thug: It happens.
Kate: In the back of the head? Wrapped himself in plastic? And he locked himself in the trunk of his car?
Thug: He'd been depressed.

Angel: Cordelia, you need to...
Cordelia: No! I don't care what horrible thing is about to happen -- asteroids are hurtling towards Earth, unspeakable evil is rising in the San Fernando Valley, Jar Jar is getting his own talk show, whatever -- I don't want to hear about it. Not 'til you ask us how it went.
Angel: ... call your mother back.

Cordelia: You do remember leaving us in a sewer with a giant calamari?

Angel: So there is a point?
Cordelia: Being that it is possible to brood *and* show a little interest in the feelings of others.
Doyle: Oh, she thinks you're insensitive and, not to bring up the irony, but consider the source.

Cordelia: Mr. and Mrs. Spock need to mind meld now.

Angel: Cordelia, I wanted to, you know, thank you... so much for going through those coroner's reports because.... I can imagine how not fun it is to read about, you know, coroner stuff.
Cordelia: Lame.

Angel: What've you got?
Cordelia: The weebies.

Kate: Which part of 'just get out of there' gave you the trouble?
Angel: I had to do something, I mean, he was getting away.
Kate: So, you decided to dress like a road flare and put my ass and yours on the line?

Cordelia: You've got pensive face.
Angel: I've always got pensive face.
Cordelia: Pensiv-er face.

Cordelia: Mmm-hmm!
Angel: What?
Cordelia: Nothing! I just find it endlessly fascinating how your instincts are so highly attuned when it comes to boring old evil, but you have yet to make any mention of these new shoes.
Angel: Look, Cordelia. Women's shoes. . . men. . . they just don't. . . .
Doyle: Great shoes! New?

Doyle: So, you were right. Papasian's planning something.
Angel: What did you hear?
Doyle: Papasian's planning something.
Angel: That's it?
Doyle: Johnny Red says, quote, "Papasian's planning something."
Angel: I thought he might be planning something.
Doyle: See? You were right.

Kate: Boy, I'm scared. And excited. And consumed with dread. And glad you're here.
Angel: I doubt even one of Little Tony's hired guns will try something in a room full of cops.
Kate: What? Oh you mean that death threat hanging overhead. No, I meant speaking in public.
Angel: What's that old saw? Picture your audience in their underwear?
Kate: Way ahead of you.

Kate: You have the most intense eyes. I see such an old soul.

Cordelia: What's her deal? To much, uh...
Doyle: Thumb sucking?
Cordelia: Alcohol!
Doyle: Don't look at me like that. I'm not the one who needs to brush up on her finger pantomime.

Kate: Look at Doyle. Really look at him. What do you see?
Cordelia: A bad double polyblend?
Kate: That's defense, Cordelia. Maybe you should try to open your heart to a new possibility.
Doyle: Hey, you know, she's starting to make some sen--
Cordelia: Angel!

Cordelia: I'm so glad we came down here to watch Late Night with Creepy Cop Lady.

Cordelia: Can we get you some coffee? Or valium? Or both?

Doyle: Why don't we all just...
Kate: Help each other?!
Doyle: Right, by staying here together.
Kate: Well we could do that, but see I have this...
Cordelia: Personal problem you're gonna share 'til dawn?
Kate: ...gun. And I don't want to come off as insensitive, but if either one of you try and stop me I'll have to blow you the crap away.

Angel: Which demon do you worship? Which one gives you your power?
Lloyd: A whole bunch, actually. I'm a polytheist.

Lloyd: What were your parents like?
Angel: My parents were great. Tasted a lot like chicken.

Angel: Okay, I think someone needs a hug!
Cordelia: Okay...ew! Ew!

Cordelia: He put the whammie on you! You stink with whammie!

Angel: Cordelia, do you have any idea just how precious you are?

Angel: He admitted it to me after I threatened him with physical violence.

Angel: It'll wear off.
Cordelia: Soon?!

Doyle: So there was never any contract on Detective Lockley?
Angel: No, Little Tony's plan all along was to kill her himself. Poor guy.
Cordelia: Poor guy?!
Angel: Well, he's got issues.

Doyle: Angel, come on. You've got to snap out of this.
Cordelia: Right now. It's time for you to get all vampy and... GRRR! Kate needs you!
Angel: I don't want to. You both withdraw when I go vamp. I feel you judge me.
Cordelia: We won't judge you. Will we? Give it a try.
Angel: Closeness is too important to me right now.

Angel: Wow. That's vandalism.
Doyle: Ah, we'll take care of it later.
Angel: We should leave a note.

Cordelia: Would you come on!
Angel: What's the magic word?
Cordelia: Ugh!
Angel: No, I don't think "Ugh" is the magic word, if one would call it a word and even then certainly not a magic one.
Cordelia: We don't have time for this.
Angel: There's always time to be considerate of others, Cordelia.
Cordelia: Oh please.
Angel: See, wasn't so hard, now, was it?

Angel: Hey! I'm feeling some serious negative energy in this room.

Angel: Now, why don't we all just sit down together and process this.


The Bachelor Party

Cordelia: If I'm not here in the morning, you can just clear out my desk. I'll be moving on up. 

Cordelia: You were so…brave. 
Doyle: You think you could say that again without so much shock in your voice? You're steppin' on my moment of manliness here. 

Cordelia: So here I am at Le Petit Renard with Mr. Armani, who could keep me in blue boxes for the rest of my life…
Angel: Blue boxes? 
Cordelia: Tiffany's! God! 

Cordelia: All I can think of is if this wimp saw a monster, he'd probably throw a shoe at it and run like a weasel. Turns out the shoe part was giving him too much credit.

Cordelia: All of a sudden rich and handsome isn't enough for me. Now I expect a guy to be all brave and interesting. And it's your fault! Both of you!

Cordelia: As if I wasn't confused enough, then Doyle comes along and rescues me like some...badly dressed super hero.

Cordelia: You know, the first thing he asked? "Are you okay?" I mean, that's like...substance, right?
Angel: Well, there's definitely more to Doyle than meets the eye.
Cordelia: So I've got to kill myself. I swore when I went down this road with Xander Harris, I'd rather be dead than date a fixer-upper again.

Cordelia: Maybe Doyle does have hidden depths. I mean, really *really* hidden. But depths. And I'm gonna have to buy him a mochaccino for saving my life.

Doyle: Hey! I was just...you know...that wasn't...
Cordelia: An incredible spaz attack? Good.

Cordelia: I was thinking that maybe I haven't been entirely fair to you. Maybe you don't actually have zero potential.
Doyle: Wow, Cordelia. Thanks.

Cordelia: You two are really married?
Harriet: Were and still, according to the paperwork.
Cordelia: So it was a green card thing?
Harriet: Nope. It was a madly in love, couldn't live without each other kind of thing.

Richard: You left out the part about him being such a handsome fellow.
Angel: I'm not...
Richard: Oh, you are. Really.
Angel: I'm not Doyle. He is.
Richard: Oh, that's more like it.

Harriet: I'm definitely the yin to his yang, but it works. He's got a good heart, Francis, just like you.
Doyle: Yeah, maybe. But the container -- can I get a side of bland to go with that bland?

Doyle: When things go wrong and you're young like that, you don't just say "Hey, thanks for the blender. I wish you well." You fight. You tear each other apart until one of you can't take it.

Doyle: He seems like a nice...friendly...fellow, don't you think?
Angel: Definitely friendly. Only, uh, he seemed a bit...
Doyle: Exactly! I knew he was no good!

Doyle: I can't go trailing after her intended myself. It just wouldn't look right. Angel, you think you would...
Angel: Yeah. Just don't tell Cordelia. She'll want to charge you.

Doyle: He's a demon? And she's all signed on to be Mrs. Demon? Tell me again how ugly he is.

Doyle: I knew that nice guy routine was just an act. He's working a spell on her. She's gonna sprout hubcaps from her head or something.

Uncle John: Let's see. First we greet the man of the hour. Then we drink. Bring out the food. Then drink. Then comes the stripper. Darts. And then we have the ritual eating of the first husband's brains. Then charades.
Brother: Wait. What was that? Charades?

Harriet: It wasn't fun being treated like a third grader, believe me.
Cordelia: Grade third taught Doyle?!…Doyle taught third grade?! The kind with children?
Harriet: Yeah.
Cordelia: Are you sure he wasn't just held back and used that as a cover story?

Harriet: Francis got his teaching credentials before we even met at the Food Bank.
Cordelia: Okay, soup kitchen. Now that sounds more like the Doyle I've grown to know and revile…You're about to tell me he ran it, aren't you?
Harriet: He was just a volunteer. That's where he got the idea for the whole We Are the World thing. I'm kidding about that part.

Angel: It's Angel. Where are you?
Cordelia: In the netherworld known as the 818 area code.

Doyle: Look, Richard, as much as I like your family -- and they're great, honest -- I'd really prefer if they didn't cannibalize me.
Richard: Oh, no. You misunderstand.
Doyle: I do?
Richard: It'll just be me.
Doyle: Why don't I just give you that hug, and we can call it even?

Doyle: Yeah, I take it back!
Richard: Oh. Well. I see. Now I'm not so sure I even want to eat your brains.
Uncle John: Don't be petulant, Richard. You'll eat his brains. You can't take back a blessing. Now apologize to your friend.
Richard: He's right. That was rude. I'd be honored to eat your brains.

Cordelia: Well, someone has to go out there and cheer him up...Oh please. Someone with a heart beat.

Cordelia: Hi Doyle. Are you gonna become loser pining guy, like, full time now? 'Cuz we already have one of those around the office.
Angel: Hey!
Doyle: Hey!
Cordelia: He can get away with it. He's tall, and look at the way clothes hang on him. But you...
Angel: Okay. I think you've cheered us up enough.

Cordelia: You can't live in the past. You gotta move on. Let it go. Forget it. Tomorrow's another day. Did I mention letting it go?
Doyle: Twice.

Cordelia: You'll get through this Doyle. Nice guys don't always finish last.
Doyle: You think I'm a nice guy?
Cordelia: I think it; I say it. It's my way.


I Will Remember You

Cordelia: Batten down the hatches. Here comes hurricane Buffy.

Doyle: Maybe he's over her.
Cordelia: You have so much to learn, little Irish man.

Angel: Look, Buffy will always be a part of me, and that's never gonna change but she's human...and I'm not...and that's also never gonna change.

Angel: I didn't want to stir things up.
Cordelia: You don't want to stir, but if my ex came to town and was all stalking me in the shadows and then left and then he didn't even say hello, I'd be...
Buffy: A little upset. Wouldn't you?

Angel: It's complicated how this all happened, Buffy, you know. It's kind of a long story.
Buffy: Your new sidekick had a vision, I was in it, you came to Sunnydale?
Angel: Okay, maybe not that long.

Angel: I was in the neighborhood...skulking.

Doyle: Where we going?
Cordelia: Oh, they'll be into this for awhile, we still have time for a cappuccino and probably the director's cut of the Titanic.

Buffy: It was rude. We should go kill it.
Angel: I'm free.

Angel: I feel weird.
Buffy: I know. I do too. I...I mean, I only came to see you so I could tell you face to face not to...see me face to face anymore. And I know there's a flaw in that logic ointment somewhere but the next thing I knew we were being attacked by this mutant ninja demon thing and then we're on the floor, on top of each other and...it's just really confusing being around you.
Angel: No, I meant I felt weird from the demon's blood. It's powerful.
Buffy: Oh. 'Kay. Let's just rewind Buffy's little outburst and pretend it never happened.

Angel: I'm alive.

Angel: I'm mortal now. I have a mortal body and...I...am...so...hungry!
Cordelia: Look out! He's gonna eat...everything in sight.

Angel: Chocolate! Ohh, chocolate! I love chocolate...but not, as it turns out, yogurt. Ugh!

Angel: The gateway for lost souls...is under the post-office?
Doyle: Makes sense if you think about it.

Cordelia: Oh please. They've got the forbidden love of all time. They've been apart for months, now he's suddenly human? I'm sure they're down there just havin' tea and crackers.

Angel: I'm really sorry I kissed you like that.
Buffy: You are?
Angel: Not for the kiss itself.
Buffy: Good...I...I mean cause as far as kisses go, I thought it was well above average.
Angel: It was incredible.

Buffy: You spoke to the Oracles. And they did say you were cured for good. But, how do we know that they really speak for the Powers? I mean, they could be pranksters.

Angel: It would be smart to wait awhile, see if this mortal thing takes.

Buffy: You're human, for like a minute and already there's cookie-dough-fudge-mint-chip in the fridge.
Angel: God, I love food.

Angel: Why didn't you ever tell me about chocolate and peanut-butter?

Doyle: I'll finally be free to go out and make me own mark in the world.
Cordelia: We had a cat that used to do that.

Cordelia: What am I gonna do? I'm good for exactly two things: International superstardom or helping a vampire with a soul to rid the world of evil.

Angel: I asked them to turn me back.
Buffy: What?! Why?
Angel: Because more than ever, I know how much I love you.

Angel: How can we be together if the cost is your life?

Buffy: Everything we did?
Angel: It never happened.
Buffy: It did! It did! I know it did. I felt your heart beat.

Buffy: I'll never forget. I'll never forget. I'll never forget. I'll never forget.

Buffy: That was unreal. How did you know how to kill it?
Angel: It's a Mohra demon. I ummm....I've had a lot of time to catch up on my reading.



Cordelia: Okay, we fade up on an aerial shot -- downtown, skyscrapers, lights, yadda yadda yadda. We hear a narrator -- preferably famous, maybe that bald Star Trek guy or one of the cheaper Baldwin brothers -- and he says, "It's a big, bad city out there." Cut to a woman walking down a dark, spooky street -- alone. We'll cast some beautiful, young actress --maybe an up-and-coming starlet whose career is on the verge of taking off. Anyway, she's all nervous, right? Mucho vulnerable. The voice guy says, "Danger lurks around every corner." She's attacked by big, ugly goon -- with a knife! She screams, "Help! Is there no one to help me?" "Well, now there's someone who'll answer your call. He'll protect you. Catch you when you fall. You can count on it."
Angel (commercial): "And you can count on me. Because I'm the Dark Avenger."
Angel: I'm the what?

Cordelia: I know a little something about self-promotion, and I'm telling you, one commercial like this could help get us out of the red... or the black... or whichever one means we're broke. 'Cause that's us!

Cordelia: Angel is all wrong for this commercial! He's a larger than life character, way too Braveheart for Joe Couch Potato to relate to. We need someone who's average, run of the mill, ordinary...you're perfect.

Cordelia: Come over here into the light, and let's see if we can create some cheekbones.

Cordelia: Our boss is in a funk. You know that he's only happy when he's fighting evil. Let's drum some up!
Doyle: I don't know what we need evil for when we've got you right here.
Cordelia: I heard that.

Doyle: Angel Investigations is the best! Our rats are low...
Cordelia: Rates!
Doyle: It says rats.

Cordelia: I don't know. I'm not getting Everyman. I'm getting . . . uh . . . weasel! We don't want weasel.
Doyle: I don't know. I think people'll be pouring in once they hear about our low rats.

Cordelia: I feel kind of hopeless with him down there doing the nonprofit brooding. It's not like he has a heart. How can it be broken?

Cordelia: Maybe if we get him a costume!
Doyle: A costume?
Cordelia: Well, the guy's a bona fide hero. Would it kill him to put on some tights and a cape and garner us a little free publicity?
Doyle: I don't see Angel putting on tights...Oh, now I do and it's really disturbing.

Doyle: Is this a private catharsis, or can anyone watch?

Doyle: There's a girl upstairs who's not quite sad enough to cry in me arms, but keep up the dark cloud. I might get lucky.

Doyle: All right, one of us has been drinking, and I'm sad to say it isn't me.

Doyle: You had the one thing you've wanted in your unnaturally long life, and you gave it back?
Angel: Maybe I was wrong.
Doyle: Or maybe Cordelia was right about you being the real deal in the hero department. See, I would have chosen the pleasures of the flesh over duty and honor any day of the week. I just don't have that strength.
Angel: You never know your strength until you're tested.

Doyle: You've lived and loved and lost and fought and vanquished inside a day, and I'm still trying to work up the nerve to ask Cordy out for dinner.

Doyle: Well, if it's a fight they want...can't someone else give it to 'em?

Doyle: Tell you what. You fight, and I'll keep score.

Cordelia: Angel started the day over knowing he'd remember everything that happened?
Doyle: It's pretty amazing, huh?
Cordelia: Amazing he didn't check the stock quotes or the lotto numbers!

Cordelia: Whoever you saw just now...did it look like they could afford to pay?

Cordelia: Okay, mission statement check: Aren't we supposed to be battling the forces of darkness?

Cordelia: This guy owes Angel money? Why aren't we collecting?!
Doyle: Cordy. Oppressed demon people here. Not getting any safer.
Cordelia: So we're sending them on a cruise, *and* we're paying for it?

Harbor Master: I could get into a hell of a lot of trouble doing this.
Angel: Not as much as if you don't.

Angel: Big Randy told you about me, right? What I am?
Harbor Master: He told me you bit him.
Angel: Oh, I didn't bite him.
Harbor Master: So you don't...
Angel: I wasn't hungry.

Reef: I though all Brakken demons had a good sense of direction.
Doyle: Yeah, we're also pretty good at basketball, too.

Doyle: I wanted to tell you. I was afraid. Thought if I did, you'd reject me.
Cordelia: I've rejected you way before now!

Cordelia: What do you think I am, superficial?! I mean, you're half demon. That is so far down the list -- way under short ... and poor.

Cordelia: Is there anything else I should know?
Doyle: The half demon thing, pretty much my big secret.
Cordelia: Good. That's out. It's done. Would you ask me out for dinner already?

Doyle: A good fight, yeah? You never know until you've been tested. I get that now.

Doyle: Too bad we'll never know...if this is a face you could learn to love.

Doyle: Is that it? Am I done?


Parting Gifts

Barney: You scared the heck out of me.  
Cordelia: You? I scared you? Look in the mirror lately? 
Barney: Every chance I get. 

Barney: I'm sensing a little performance anxiety here. Little trick: Picture everybody...
Cordelia: In their underwear. 
Barney: I was gonna say dead, but hey, if that underwear thing works for ya...

Barney: First off, you should know -- right away, before there's any misunderstanding -- I'm a demon. 
Angel: Appreciate your candor. 

Barney: I just realized it's 3:45 in the afternoon, middle of the day. If you're a vampire, why aren't you in your coffin? 
Angel: A coffin. I hate that stereotype. You're a demon and you don't know anything about vampires? 
Barney: Only what I learned from TV. 
Angel: Vampires don't sleep in coffins. It's a misconception made popular by hack writers and ignorant media. In fact, you know, we can and do move around during the day, as long as we avoid direct sunlight. 'K? Got it? 

Angel: What makes you think he means you harm? 
Barney: I don't think he's tracking me down to tell me that I won the Publisher's Clearinghouse. 

Angel: So you're a cheat. 
Barney: I choose to think of it as going with my strengths. 

Cordelia: Damn. I can't believe he did this to me. 
Angel: Who did what? 
Cordelia: Doyle! I thought our kiss meant something. And instead, he used that moment to pass it on to me. Why couldn't it have been mono or herpes? 

Cordelia: I didn't ask for this responsibility, unlike some people who shall remain lifeless. 

Angel: You had a vision. 
Cordelia: Boy! Howdy! And guess what, you know how they *look* painful? Well they *feel* a whole lot worse. 

Angel: The vision! What was the vision?  
Cordelia: Oh, pfft, who knows. It was a thing. 
Angel: A thing? 
Cordelia: An ugly, grey, blobby thing. What difference does it make? 
Angel: The difference is if you saw it in a vision, this could be an ugly, grey, blobby dangerous thing. 

Cordelia: I don't care. I want it out of me. And if kissing's the only way to get rid of it, I will smooch every damn frog in this kingdom! 

Wesley: I'll wager you never thought you'd see me again. 
Angel: To tell you the truth, I haven't given it much thought one way or another. 

Angel: Interesting look for you. Motorcycle? Watcher's Council trying out a new image? 
Wesley: In point of fact, I no longer work for the Council. I came to the conclusion I was of greater good to the cause working autonomously. 
Angel: They fired you. 

Wesley: And that's why I became a Rogue Demon Hunter. 
Angel: You're a demon hunter?
Wesley: Rogue Demon Hunter. 

Cordelia: Doyle? He drank too much, and his taste in clothing was like a Greek tragedy. And he could be really sweet sometimes. You'll like this, he was half-demon -- a secret he kept from me for, like, *ever*. I guess that's the reason he sometimes smelled weird. 

Cordelia: What are you doing here? Are you working with Angel? 
Wesley: A lone wolf such as myself never works with anyone. I'm merely allowing Angel to assist me. 
Cordelia: Oh. Wow. 
Wesley: I'm a Rogue Demon Hunter now. 
Cordelia: Wow. What's a rogue demon? 

Angel: I had someone by my side. He's dead now. I'm not gonna let that happen again. I work alone. 

Cordelia: Are you alright, Wesley?  
Wesley: No, these pants tend to chafe my . . . legs. 

Barney: I get the impression Doyle didn't have much by way of possessions? 
Cordelia: No. No, he didn't. 
Barney: Seems like he gave you the most valuable thing he had. 

Cordelia: I hope you like your coffee black because the only lightener the boss has in his refrigerator is O positive. 

Angel: In case you're wondering, this is me looking for clues. Feel free to join in any time you want. 

Wesley: I'm a fool. A sniveling, great . . . 
Angel: Ugly, grey, blobby thing. 
Wesley: Yes! I'm an ugly, grey, blobby . . . what? 

Cordelia: I'm really not a seer. I only had a vision once, and I'm pretty sure it was just something I ate! 

Cordelia: I never doubted for a minute you'd find me. 
Angel: Well, I was lucky. I had a Rogue Demon Hunter on my side. 

Cordelia: Not that he didn't have it coming. He was a horrible evil monster. 
Angel: He did kill a lot of people. 
Wesley: Viciously mutilated their corpses. 
Cordelia: Plus he started the bidding on me at a paltry $2,000. 

Cordelia: This I frame for saving my life, and as a reminder that something of Doyle's is here in our office. 

Wesley: Well, I'll be off. Farewell Angel. Who knows when our paths will cross. 
Angel: Wesley. 
Cordelia: Do you even know where you're headed? 
Wesley: Rogue Demon Hunters rarely do. Wherever evil lurks, wherever the forces of darkness threaten humanity, that's where I'll be. 
Cordelia: Oh, okay. Well, keep in touch. 
Wesley: Yes, yes, I will. But now evil lurking everywhere bids me onwards! So, I go.  
Cordelia: Take care! 
Wesley: Yes. 
Wesley: No rest for the wicked fighters, through storm and rain, heat and famine, deep painful gnawing hunger, I go. 
Angel: Breakfast? 
Wesley: Ooo! I suppose so. 

Cordelia: He's a good cook for someone on a liquid diet.



Cordelia: Nobody likes a smart-ass rogue demon hunter.

Wesley: And you? How go things on your end of the good fight?
Cordelia: I've been giving the hard sell to an empty chair. What do you think?

Cordelia: Something wrong? You stopped yammering.

Cordelia: And, wow, you look half-dead. Which for someone who's completely dead would be...kinda neat?

Kate: I'll run it myself. I'll have it for you by morning.
Angel: No rush. Late afternoon. Evening would be fine, actually.

Wesley: While executing my duties as Watcher in Sunnydale, I did extensive research, specifically on Angel...given his uncomfortable proximity to the Slayer.
Cordelia: He looked pretty comfortable to me.

Cordelia: Okay, you get to leave now. You're not gonna come in here and accuse Angel like this.
Wesley: Cordelia.
Cordelia: No! I don't care how many files you have on all the horrible things that he did back in the powdered wig days. He's good now. And he is my friend. And nothing you or anyone else can say will make me turn on a friend!
Angel: Cordelia. He's right.
Cordelia: You stake him and I'll cut his head off.

Angel: I have no memory of doing these things.
Cordelia: Oh, not exactly the confidence inspiring denial I was looking for.

Cordelia: Vampires can't sleepwalk. He'd take one step out the front door and his PJs would burst into flames.

Cordelia: A glamorous LA life. I get to make the coffee and chain the boss to the bed. Gotta join a union.

Angel: Cordelia. I think that's tight enough.
Cordelia: And if it turns out we're back on the liquid lunch? Better safe than cocktails.

Angel: I taught him well.
Cordelia: A real psycho-wan Kenobi.

Kate: Angel, are you okay? Not that the brooding, man of mystery think isn't working for you. I mean, it is. A lot.

Wesley: Where'd you get the police radio?
Angel: Police car.
Wesley: Oh dear!

Penn: We were to meet in Italy, remember?
Angel: I remember.
Penn: Well, I waited. Hell, I waited until the 19th century. What happened?
Angel: Got held up in Romania.
Penn: Romania. What's in Romania?
Angel: Gypsies.

Angel: People change.
Penn: We're not people.

Cordelia: Oh crap! You're him...he...the guy. Apt pupil boy.

Penn: How does that work exactly? You just wake up one morning and decide, "ok, now I'm good"?

Kate: I looked it up. It's all right there. The demon with the face of an angel. Particularly brutal bastard, by all accounts.

Cordelia: It's the same place. New name and a face lift. Not the first time that's happened in this town.

Wesley: Oh, I invite you in.
Angel: Relax, that's only if you're humans. Breaking and entering another vampire's lair is no problem.

Penn: You're my real father, Angelus.
Angel: Fine! You're grounded.

Angel: I was just thinking about how much this place is like where I grew up.
Cordelia: Right. Yeah, I could see that except for the cars and the buildings and the, you know, everything else.

Angel: And sometimes they change back. The day ever comes that I...
Cordelia: Oh, I'll kill you dead.
Angel: Thanks.
Cordelia: What are friends for?



Angel: You look nice.
Cordelia: Aagh! Oh, and now, I look like the Joker.
Angel: Sorry.
Cordelia: Hopefully, I'm still too young and carefree for a heart attack. Would it kill you to hum a little tune when slipping up on people?
Angel: I don't hum.

Angel: Maybe we could be a little less young and carefree with the filing?

Angel: Okay, so, why is Mrs. Benson filed under 'F'?
Cordelia: Because she's from France. Remember what a pain she was?
Angel: Yeah, made me want to drink a lot.
Cordelia: Well, that's the French for you.

Wesley: Hello! I was just in the neighborhood, patrolling with my new Bavarian Fighting Ax, when I suddenly thought, "Perhaps Cordelia's had a vision. Perhaps you need my help in the battle against evil."
Angel: We seem to be evil-free at the moment.

Wesley: If shaking your booty at the latest trendy hot spot is your idea of a life, then call me...sick with envy.

Angel: So, you've been seeing someone. How come I didn't know?
Cordelia: Because I'm ashamed of you -- not to mention how you'd embarrass me by giving him the third degree.
Emily: Your boss can give me the third degree anytime.

Angel: So, that client I'm supposed to be meeting tonight, what's he like again?
Cordelia: Like a big baby, hatching from a big egg, with really large hands in need of a manicure.

Angel: That's right. Termites lay their eggs anywhere, such as next door. And we fight termites -- wherever they may roam.

Wesley: Nobody's more fond of Cordelia than I, but if she wants to go gad-abouting with those doxies . . .
Angel: I think they liked you.
Wesley: Really? I didn't mean doxy in a sexually promiscuous sense, exactly. You don't think sticking the ax in the wall put them off?
Angel: That was charming.
Wesley: What about the fact they thought we were gay?
Angel: Adds mystery.

Cordelia: Um, you don't have to--
Wilson: Call you?
Cordelia: Go home? I mean right away. It's still early . . . . in Australia.

Cordelia: Alright, Dennis. Knock it off. This is the one guy I've actually liked in a long time. And if you keep killing the mood, I'll kill you! Alright, empty threat -- you being a ghost and already dead. But I'll do something worse! I'll play Evita around the clock -- the one with Madonna!

Angel: It's all right. We're here.
Cordelia: I'm ready to wake up now. I don't seem to be waking up.

Cordelia: What would I say to him? "I had a really great time. I think you left something at my place?"

Angel: You're not alone.
Cordelia: That's sort of the problem, isn't it?

Bartender: I didn't see you.
Angel: I get that a lot.

Bartender: So, you're the boyfriend?
Angel: No. I'm family.

Doctor: You're, what, 8 1/2 months along?
Wesley: Feels like only yesterday, doesn't it?

Wilson: This is a private club. Featured word: Private.
Angel: You don't talk to me, I'll kick your ass. Featured word: Ass.

Angel: I really hate it when people shoot me.

Wesley: We can end this without harming the women. Oh. just one tiny problem.
Angel: What's that?
Wesley: Well, I don't want to use the words "impossible to kill," but . . . fire won't kill it. Decapitation won't. It's really huge.

Demon: Who are you?
Wesley: Wesley Wyndham-Price, Rogue Demon Hunter. And I'm here to fight you, sir, to the death -- preferably yours.

Wesley: As a point of courtesy, I like to get to know my opponents before I engage them in mortal combat. Do, uh, do you have any hobbies?

Angel: Sorry I'm late to the baby shower. Brought a little gift.

Cordelia: I really hate dating.

Cordelia: I learned something, too. I learned, um, men are evil? Oh, wait. I knew that. I learned that LA is full of self-serving phonies. Nope. Had that one down, too. Sex is bad?
Angel: We all knew that.
Cordelia: Okay, I learned that I have two people I trust absolutely with my life. And that part's new.



Cordelia: Hi! You having fun?
Angel: Sure. This is, uh. . . .
Cordelia: Your idea of hell.
Angel: Actually, in hell you tend to know a lot of the people.

Girl: Nice sweater. Hand-knit?
Wesley: Certainly not by me!
Girl: I didn't mean...I mean, it's a great sweater.
Wesley: Oh, well I'll pass that on then...to the person who knit it. I mean, I would if I knew who did. Which I don't. So I won't pass it on to anyone, will I?

Angel: Hi, Dennis. How ya doin'?...Still dead? I know the feeling.

Angel: Really, uh, fun party last night.
Cordelia: I'm so glad you came. You know how parties are. You're always worried that nobody's going to be around to suck the energy out of the room like a giant black hole of boring despair. But there you were, in the clinch!

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: Laura thought you hated her; I had to tell her you were challenged.

Angel: I got two modes with people: bite and avoid. Hard to shift.

Angel: The quiet, reserved thing -- don't you think that makes me kind of, I don't know, cool?
Cordelia: He was cooler.
Wesley: Good morning!
Angel: Now I'm depressed.

Angel: You're broke aren't you?
Wesley: Angel, a man's finances are his own business.
Angel: You want a job?
Wesley: Oh, yes, please!

Cordelia: There are portals now? When did they put in portals? Don't we have enough on our hands without burning monsters fiends coming here?

Wesley: We'll figure out who he is, where he comes from -- boss. You can count on it.
Cordelia: Wesley, *stop* kissing butt. It's not like we get overtime.

Angel: I can hear you now. These things were definitely cooked up by a bored warlock.

Wesley: There's no answer.
Cordelia: I bet he forgot to turn that thing on again. You'd think a guy who knows how to use an ancient Scythian short bow could figure out how to use a cell phone.

Angel: Here's the plan: We go in. I start hitting people hard in the face, see where it takes us.

Angel: I need to see Jhiera, now.
Guy: I'm sorry, no Jhiera here, but I already see I can help you. First, let's talk about the clothes vibe.

Cordelia: Wow. Groveling isn't just a way of life for you. It's an art.
Wesley: I do not grovel. Please don't fire me.

Wesley: What happened yesterday was an anomaly. I'm very rarely taken hostage.

Wesley: I'm your faithful servant Angel.
Cordelia: Like I said, an art.


I've Got You Under My Skin

Angel: She's making brownies.
Wesley: Oh, is that what I smell? I thought I'd tracked something in.

Cordelia: You're gonna love 'em.
Wesley: Me? 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: Maybe if he branched out into the solids, he'd keep a decent knife around.
Wesley: That is not appropriate! It's for killing extinct demons! Angel, make her stop.

Wesley: That blade is very old, who knows what kind of corrosive effect your cooking may have on it.
Cordelia: 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.
Angel: Cordelia, Doyle...I mean, Wesley. Wesley.

Cordelia: Look, you don't have to be Joe Stoic about his dying. I mean, I know that you have this 'unflappable' vibe working for you, but you don't have to do that for me.
Angel: I'm not unflappable.
Cordelia: Great. So flap!

Angel: I've been around death before. A lot. I've lost people. I've killed people...
Cordelia: And you are dead. Sorry.

Angel: I'll be fine, really. I'm not a big bleeder.

Seth: This bother you? [a cigarette]
Angel: No.
Seth: Lotta health nuts these days, you know. Like anyone needs to live forever.
Angel: No one needs that.

Cordelia: What is this stuff anyway? It's kinda pretty.
Wesley: It's the bodily excretion of an Ethros Demon.
Cordelia: No one could have said 'demon poo' *before* I touched it?

Wesley: It tends to go in for mass murder. You've heard of Lizzie Borden -- she killed her parents with an axe?
Cordelia: I remember the children's rhyme. And how come they're all full of death and cradles falling and mice getting tails cut off? Anyway, the whole thing needs a ratings system, don't you think?

Wesley: A little Silas Eucalyptus Powder ingested by the host...
Cordelia: Then what? Dad goes "grrr"? Head spins around?
Wesley: Essentially.

Paige: What's your secret, Angel?
Angel: I use chocolate. That's why they're brown -- which gives them their name. Brownies!

Cordelia: Hi, I'm Cordelia! Sorry about the possession and everything.

Cordelia: Jeez, we got it! Circle, angry, kill-kill-kill! Go to church already.

Paige: I'm not going to him, okay? I'm playing by the stupid rules.
Cordelia: Good! We can watch TV or play cards. You'll get caught up, won't even hear your son's pain.

Cordelia: It's almost over. And Angel is good at this kind of thing. And Wesley...well, I'm sure they'll be right back with the priest.

Angel: You've never done this before. Look, it takes tremendous strength. Mental strength.
Wesley: Resistance to suggestion. Yes, I understand that. I like to think of myself as possessing a certain . . .
Angel: Wesley, you don't even have sales resistance. How many thighmasters do you own?
Wesley: The second one was a free gift with my Buns of Steel.

Wesley: You're saying I can't do it.
Angel: That's right.
Wesley: So, our only option is you do it. [throwing a cross to Angel who burns his hand]
Angel: That was vulgar.
Wesley: But I believe I made my point.

Cordelia: Of course, without one of these...
Angel: The demon'll try to make the jump to the nearest warm body.
Cordelia: Right. So you're safe anyway.

Cordelia: Maybe we can build one of these.
Angel: Uh, an authentic Ethros Box is made of 600 species of virgin woods and hand-crafted by blind Tibetan monks.
Cordelia: Nope, don't know any.

Ryan: You couldn't even "Watch". Everyone knows you got fired because you couldn't do anything right. Nothing is going to make him proud of you.
Wesley: Skimming the surface of my mind. Very good. But a mere parlor trick. Here's one for you -- how many crosses am I holding up?

Angel: It'll be looking for a hostile environment -- somewhere damp. Probably returning to primordial volcanic basalt for its regeneration.
Cordelia: Huh?
Wesley: Sea caves.
Cordelia: Why didn't he just say that?

Wesley: What that demon said before...
Angel: I know you're not planning to kill me, Wesley. But you're willing to, and that's good.

Ethros: You're dealing with forces beyond your comprehension.
Angel: Yeah? Well it's a hobby of mine.

Wesley: You great, putrescent bully!

Wesley: You didn't get that boy's soul.
Ethros: Humpf, what soul?

Ethros: Do you know what the most frightening thing in the world is? Nothing. That's what I found in the boy.


The Prodigal

Kate: Sorry, I guess I'm still having a little trouble with this "otherworldy" stuff.
Angel: Right…although demon's aren't technically otherworldly. I mean, in fact, they were here…first.

Kate: Should I call the coroner or hazardous materials?

Kate: No offense. I think you're probably a pretty decent guy for a…you know, what you are. But let's keep this strictly business.

Darla: He's magnificent.
Barmaid: Oh, yeah, God's gift alright.
Darla: Really? I've never known God to be so generous.
Barmaid: Oh, his lies sound pretty when the stars are out. But he forgets every promise he's made when the sun comes up again.
Darla: That wouldn't really be a problem for me, actually.

Cordelia: The installation guy said it should be something easy to remember, like…my birthday.
Angel: I don't know your birthday.
Cordelia: Yeah, tell me something you don't know that I don't know. But after 11 1/2 months of punching it in to this, you won't have any excuses.

Angel: It's about that demon from this morning…
Kate: If you insist on talking about this stuff, could you please not say that word? It makes me... It makes me, I don't know, just uncomfortable. Just say...Evil Thing, okay?

Angel: It's just that the...uh...Evil Thing -- turns out that it wasn't an evil Thing.
Kate: The Evil Thing wasn't an evil Thing?
Angel: Well, it was an Evil Thing, in terms of that word. It just wasn't an evil Evil Thing.
Kate: There are not-evil Evil Things?
Angel: Well, yeah.

Angel: I think that the demon…I think the *train* may have been targeted for a reason.
Kate: An Evil Thing needs a reason?

Kate: Angel, there's nothing here. You're not evil Evil Thing was just evil, okay?

Angel: I don't know. Ever since she ran me through with a two by four, things have been different.

Wesley: I think you'll find most people require some period of adjustment when confronted with the dark forces which surround us. Women in particular…
Cordelia: Found it!
Wesley: …struggle with it.

Cordelia: Move your entrails.

Angel: So, you're back.
Cordelia: Very good, Mister I-can't-tail-the-suspect-during-the-day-because-I'll-burst-into-flames Private Eye.

Angel: I could feel them above me. As I slept in the earth. Heartbeats. The blood coursing through their veins. Was it a dream?
Darla: A dream for you. Soon -- their nightmare.

Angel: This is strictly recon. I need to know exactly what we're dealing with before we make any moves.
Wesley: Right you are. Deliberate, cautious approach would be the most sensible plan. Fools rush in.
Cordelia: No, he wants you to stay here.

Vampire: Looks like you're not welcome here, bro.
Angel: He dies, and the very instant his soul leaves his body, I'm through this door, and I kill you both.

Wesley: What happened to calmly, cautiously, and deliberately investigating before rushing in?
Angel: That was Plan A. We've since moved on to Plan B.
Wesley: And Plan B is?
Angel: Do I really have to explain it to you, Wesley?

Demon: You don't understand what stands before you!
Angel: Oh...a big ugly drug-running demon who thinks he's a lot scarier than really he is, maybe? Yeah, she knows.

Demon: You're dead!
Angel: I'm already dead. Welcome to the club.

Angel: Never trust an evil Evil Thing.

Darla: Your victory over him took but moments.
Angel: Yes.
Darla: But his defeat of you will last lifetimes.
Angel: What are you talking about? He can't defeat me now.
Darla: Nor can he ever approve of you. In this world or any other.


The Ring

Cordelia: Demons, Demons, Demons. Wow. They put a lot of thought into *that* title.
Wesley: It's a demon database. What would you call it?
Cordelia: I don't know. How 'bout...Demon Database?
Wesley: Ah. A name rife with single entendre.

Cordelia: Why isn't Wolfram & Hart in here?
Wesley: Because they're lawyers, not demons?
Cordelia: Fine line, you ask me.

Cordelia: Someone oughta create a Intra-Demon Dating Base. You know, like ArchFiend.org -- Where the lonely and the slimy connect.

Cordelia: I was just joking Mr. Grouchy Pants. When was the last time you had a dating base?
Wesley: For your information, I live a rich and varied social life.
Cordelia: Oh, I know. Every night it's Jeopardy followed by Wheel of Fortune and a cup of hot cocoa. Look out girls, this one can't be tamed.
Wesley: I'll admit it may not be as intoxicating as a life erected on high-fashion pumps and a push-up bra.

Angel: Do you two need to see a counselor?
Cordelia: No, I'm way too single entendre to benefit from therapy.

Ernie: Jack doesn't have any friends. Just people he doesn't owe.

Cordelia: Okay, I'm in. What did Darren write down about the demons that took his brother?
Wesley: Bald. Ultra-white skin. Slime.
Cordelia: There's always slime. This is why I don't gamble. You make a small wager one day and a bigger one the next, and before you know it... Beetlejuicey Albino comes a-knockin'!

Cordelia: Okay, first I say yuck, and then I hit search.

Angel: You set me up.
Darren: It was a group effort.

Angel: We'll have so much to talk about during the long winter nights.

Darren: Trepkos, you're the main event. You'll go against Malish.
Cribb: That's not a match-up; that's an execution.

Darren: We'll have to find a replacement for his bout.
Jack: How 'bout Captain America, here?

Wesley: You should understand that the man I work for means a great deal to me, and I will not give you a single red cent. What I will do, sir, is beat it out of you, if I have to.

Wesley: Something's going down tonight! Something with The Man!

Cordelia: You almost blew it!
Wesley: I saved us.
Cordelia: Something's going down with The Man? You idiot.

Cribb: Idiot. Thinks he can get out of this by pulling a Ghandi.

Wesley: These Octavian matches date back to the Roman Empire I'd heard rumors of a revival.
Cordelia: Well, couldn't they have just done West Side Story?

Cribb: One lucky kill don't make you an expert.
Angel: That wasn't the first life I've taken -- or the twenty-first.

Cordelia: We've got to get Angel out of there.
Wesley: I know. But to do that, we have to get him out of those wrist cuffs. No mean feat, they were forged by ancient sorcerers.
Cordelia: So get an ancient key.

Wesley: I may be able to make one myself -- if I could get my hands on one of those cuffs, which isn't going to be easy…unless you happened to procure one while I wasn't looking.

Angel: Someone needs to put you in your place. You…and your brother.
Jack: Someone may. Someday. But not you. And not today.
Angel: Why put off 'til tomorrow what you can do today?

Darren: Let him go.
Angel: Soon as you let us go.
Darren: Who do you think you are, Moses?

Angel: He's your brother.
Darren: Now he's my dead brother.

Lilah: How do you feel?
Angel: Like I was hit by lightning after the truck ran me over.

Lilah: There's not one reason why we can't work together.
Angel: You're right…there are about a thousand.

Cordelia: You'd think people would get enough gratuitous violence watching Jerry Springer.

Wesley: I need to see Angel. Tall fellow. Prominent brow.
Cribb: Yeah, he's dead.
Wesley: Dead?
Cribb: About 20 seconds, he will be. He's fighting Trepkos and who the hell are you?

Cordelia: Angel, you don't look so…well it's a good thing you heal fast.
Angel: It's also a good thing you guys found me in time.
Cordelia: We weren't going to let anything happen to you. Well, I mean beyond the slavery and the severe beatings and stuff.

Angel: You both did great. And I think we did a good thing here.
Wesley: Yes. We set the captives free.
Cordelia: Well, actually, didn't we set a bunch of demons free?
Wesley: Ah, well, technically... Yes.



Wesley: We're doomed.
Angel: Maybe we can make a break for it.
Wesley: Impossible.
Angel: Front exit?
Wesley: They'd spot us instantly.
Angel: Back door?
Wesley: Blocked.
Angel: That's it then. We're trapped.
Wesley: We might try shouting fire...It's not technically a crowded theater.

Angel: And I thought I knew eternity.

Cordelia: Angel? Was I good?
Angel: I wouldn't say it if I didn't think so.
Cordelia: Thanks! You didn't say it.

Angel: Hey, you know, it was a night in the theater I'll never forget.

Cordelia: I was working him all night, and he gave you his card?
Angel: He thought I had a quality.

Cordelia: She played Raven in "On Your Own." Big hit television show? It was only on for, like, 9 1/2 years. Do either of you even own a television?

Cordelia: It was a seminal show. Canceled by the idiot network. I was gonna picket them, but I didn't have any comfortable shoes.

Rebecca: Are you alright?
Cordelia: Oh, he's fine. It was *such* an honor to save your life, Miss Lowell.

Rebecca: Oliver, down. He doesn't know who I am.
Cordelia: He's culturally retarded that way.

Rebecca: Do you make a habit of this sort of thing, Angel?
Cordelia: Oh, it's only, like, his purpose in life. Angel's the Dark Avenger. Only not too dark. Happy dark!

Cordelia: I'm in the picture.
Wesley: Where?
Cordelia: Right there.
Wesley: Where?
Cordelia: Right there. Next to Rebecca. That's my elbow!

Cordelia: Rebecca Lowell hasn't had a series since " On Your Own" was canceled. And that was almost a season-and-a-half ago!
Wesley: And they say there are no seasons in Los Angeles.

Cordelia: We have to use this now, before she's just another E! True Hollywood Story!

Rebecca: Can we talk?
Angel: Sure, right in here.
Rebecca (to her bodyguards): Stay.
Angel: (to Wes & Cordy): Stay.

Rebecca: You're not fond of sunshine.
Angel: I'm a night person.

Cordelia: My first big connection in Hollywood, and you practically throw her outta the office. Haven't you ever heard of networking?

Cordelia: Oh no! Not now! Aah! What's this I see in my vision? Ooh! It's a figure. A woman! It's Rebecca. She's in danger. Terrrrible danger...Great. Just great. Because Mr. Distant has intimacy issues, I lose my brush with fame.

Angel: Cordelia, she's just a person.
Cordelia: Spoken like a true non-person.

Angel: I'm not what you think.
Rebecca: You're not? Because -- no reflection, dark private office, instantly knowing those letters weren't written in blood -- I guess what I would think is...vampire.
Angel: Then again...
Rebecca: Which is impossible. Bela Lugosi, Gary Oldman -- they're vampires.
Angel: Frank Langella was the only performance I believed.

Rebecca: Do you drink blood?
Angel: Yeah. But not people.
Rebecca: You're not a killer.
Angel: I gave that up.
Rebecca: Well, there's a support group for everything in this town, I guess.

Cordelia: Great, he spent the night with the fantasy of millions. All alone. "Protecting" her.
Wesley: You're worried about the curse. I wouldn't be.
Cordelia: Hey, you weren't around the last time Angel went mental. I, on the other hand, was on the first wave of the clean-up crew.

Cordelia: He knows perfect happiness. He goes evil. So don't tell me not to worry.
Wesley: Angel's moment of true happiness occurred because he was with Buffy. Do you realize how rare that is? True happiness? And what are the odds he'd find it with an actress.
Cordelia: What's that supposed to mean?
Wesley: I was...ah...I meant TV actress.

Cordelia: I owe it to that poor girl to see if he ended up chowing down on my one link to fame.

Angel: Cordelia. You're here. And...you brought a cross.
Cordelia: And along with three double half-caf non-fat skinny lattes.
Angel: And a cross.

Cordelia: Well, judging by the outfit, I guess it's safe to come in. Evil Angel never would have worn those pants.

Cordelia: So she went to lunch and just left you here to rummage through her things?
Angel: No. I told her I was a vampire and that daytime patio dining was out.
Cordelia: Did you just make a joke?

Rebecca: Wow, it's sort of what you'd expect -- and sort of not.
Angel: There's no coffin.

Cordelia: I think I may have done something terrible. I went shopping with Rebecca.
Wesley: And that was terrible?
Cordelia: Huh? No! That was fantastic -- did you know they close off stores for her?

Wesley: You don't think...
Cordelia: What? That she'd try to maneuver Angel into an exchange of bodily fluids in order to make herself eternally young and beautiful thus saving her failing career? Gee, now that you mention it...

Rebecca: Cordelia says you've saved the world.
Angel: Couple times I helped. But I almost had it sucked into Hell once, too.

Angelus: Oh, God, I love this stuff. Wow! Remind me to get the name of your dealer before I kill you.

Angelus: Boy, you know, you could stand to lose a few pounds. Hey, I'll help you with that.

Rebecca: I just wanted to...
Angelus: Be like me? Hey, can't say I blame you. I'm one happy fellow.

Angelus: Tell you what. I'll torture ya for a few unbelievably long hours, and you can tell me if this is the lifestyle for you.

Rebecca: I may have given him something to help loosen him up. And now he's...
Cordelia: Loose?!?

Wesley: What did you give him?
Rebecca: Does it matter?
Cordelia: Well if he's all homicidal, I'm thinking YEAH!!

Angelus: Good news, Wes Old Boy! You don't have an inferiority complex. You're just simply inferior.

Cordelia: Why don't you just...just...
Angelus: Just just just just...Line! "Of course, a time will come...when Torvald is not as devoted...to me." You were really, let me tell you, bad.
Cordelia: Stop it.
Angelus: Why? You didn't. I mean, I've been to Hell, but that was so much worse.

Angelus: You had to be there. There wasn't a dry eye in the house, everybody was just laughing so hard.

Cordelia: Back off. [holding a glass of water]
Angelus: What're you gonna do? Melt me?

Angelus: That's just drinking water.
Cordelia: Fresh from a mountain spring, delivered right to our door, then blessed every second Tuesday by Father Mackie, the local parish priest, while you're down in the bat cave sleeping through the better part of the day. Don't believe me? [throws the water] And the Oscar goes to...

Cordelia: Are you still evil?
Angel: I'm so sorry.
Cordelia: Can I get another reading on that line, please?

Angel: I need to apologize to both of you.
Wesley: There's really no need.
Cordelia: Uh, hello?

Angel: Cordelia...
Cordelia: Okay, here's something I *never* thought I would say to you: Wesley's right.

Cordelia: Angelus may not be the most relaxing company, but at least he's honest! Shouldn't I expect the same from the non-evil version of my friends?

Angel: So we're okay then?
Cordelia: I'm too big of a person to let something so petty get in the way of our friendship.
Angel: I appreciate that...You're not going to untie me, are you?
Cordelia: Pffft!


Five By Five

Darla: Happy Birthday, Angelus.
Angelus: She's a gypsy.
Darla: I looked everywhere.
Angelus: What would I do without you?
Darla: Wither and die. But she's not just for you. I get to watch.

Angel: Next time they come after you, I'm not going to be there. And your friends aren't going to be there either -- not after being cut up and incinerated.

Cordelia: Someone with that much body art is gonna have a different definition of civic duty.
Wesley: After we saved his life?
Cordelia: When was the last time *you* wrote a thank you card?

Cordelia: Wesley, you don't change a guy like that. In fact, generally speaking, you don't change a guy. What you see is what you get. Scratch the surface, and whaddya find? More surface.

Angel: You're gonna have to face your demons some time.
Marquez: What if I don't want to face my demons?
Angel: Then you'll have to face mine.

Lindsey: I hate failure when there's no one else to blame it on.

Cordelia: Unfortunately, we don't really do divorce cases. No, it's not about the money. Oh! It's about *that* much money! How soon can we meet?

Cordelia: You can always tell when he's happy. His scowl? Slightly less scowl-y.

Angel: Not everyone screams.
Darla: What?
Angel: When you kill 'em. Some just stand there, frozen. While others. . . .
Darla: What are you doing? Are we playing a game?
Angel: The children -- they usually scream.
Darla: Yes. They sound just like little pigs. Have you brought me some?

Angel: Funny. You'd think with all the people I've maimed and killed, I wouldn't be able to remember Every. Single. One.

Lindsey: To make a long story less long, I think for services rendered, we can get you off.
Faith: You don't know how many men have promised me that.

Cordelia: It's not the kind of case I'd normally go after, but we've got to consider the bottom line.
Angel: What kind of demons are we dealing with?
Cordelia: Well, it's not exactly a "demon thing."
Wesley: What kind of "thing" is it?
Cordelia: It's a . . . kind of. . . husband-and-wife break-up thing.
Wesley: A divorce case?
Angel: You're kidding.
Cordelia: What's wrong with a divorce case?
Angel: It's not what we do.
Cordelia: According to the husband, the wife's a real witch.
Wesley: Seems a bit on the seedy side.
Cordelia: This is not seedy. He's in government.

Cordelia: Oh, and we should pick up the tab for lunch. Nothing says success less than splitting the bill.
Angel: I didn't bring any money with me.
Cordelia: Okay, Elvis, when you're a big star, you can get away without carrying cash.

Cordelia: And while we're on the subject, I think one of us should apply for a small business loan. Just to get us through the rough spots. I mean, what's a 30-year loan to you?

Wesley: Oh my god, Faith.
Angel: I thought she was in a coma.
Cordelia: Pretty lively coma.

Angel: Giles said she left Sunnydale about a week ago. Described her mental state as borderline psychotic.
Cordelia: That explains her outfit.

Angel: Make yourselves scarce. I don't want to give her any free targets.
Wesley: You've been targeted by a psychotic. I'm certainly not going to run and hide.
Cordelia: I like the plan where I'm scarce.
Wesley: We've got to band together. Strength in numbers.
Cordelia: Two's a number.

Wesley: It seems you're taking this personally.
Angel: She tried to shoot my own personal back, so yeah.

Wesley: She's not a demon. She's a sick, sick girl. If there's even a chance she can be reasoned with...
Angel: There was. Last year, I had a shot at saving her. I was pulling her back from the brink when some British guy kidnapped her and made damn sure she'd never trust another living soul.
Cordelia: Angel, it's not Wesley's fault that "some British guy" ruined your...oh wait. That was you. Go on.

Angel: (to Faith) I was hoping you'd stop by. Always good to see old friends.

Faith: You didn't shoot to kill! We're gonna have to up the stakes. Get you in the game a little.
Angel: What's the game, exactly, Faith? Boredom? Revenge?
Faith: Dude, I'm getting *paid*. They hate you almost as much as I do.

Angel: It ever occur to you this might be more fun for me?
Faith: Ya think? Cuz, what if you kill me? Experience that one true moment of pleasure. Oops! I'd get off on that. Go ahead. Do me. Let's take that hell ride together.

Angel: Where's Faith?
Lindsey: Should I know what you're talking about?
Angel: Your new employee.
Lindsey: It's a big firm. Tell you what I can do, I can give you the number to personnel, though. I'm sure they'd be glad to handle your problem.
Angel: You'd remember this one -- pretty, dark hair, kills things.

Lindsey: I'm sorry. We only handle a certain class of clientele.
Angel: I'm sure I've killed enough people to qualify.

Lindsey: You know, just when I think I've got you figured out, you show up in a suit.

Wesley: A woman fitting Faith's description was involved--however, not arrested.
Cordelia: She charm her way out?
Wesley: No. Apparently, she managed to break a policeman's jaw with his own handcuffs before she disappeared into the night.
Cordelia: Oh. For Faith, that is charm.

Faith: Don't poop out on me, dammit! Otherwise this is all just gonna be over too fast. You'll be dead, and I'll be... bored.

Faith: Now, we've only done one of the five basic torture groups. We've done blunt, but that still leaves sharp, cold, hot, and loud. Have a preference?

Faith: Oh, that's great. It's always better with audience participation. May I take your order please?
Wesley: I was your Watcher Faith. I know the real you. And even if you kill me, there's just one thing I want you to remember.
Faith: What's that, love?
Wesley: You...are a piece of shi-

Faith: Face it, Wesley, you really were a jerk. Always walking around like you had some great big stake rammed up your English Channel.

Faith: Admit it, Wesley, didn't you always kind of have the hots for me?

Faith: How do I know you're really in this? I mean, if I kill him, would that help? Or just be really funny?

Angel: By the way, you never told me how much I'm worth dusted, just out of curiosity.
Faith: $15,000 plus expenses.
Angel: You're kidding.
Faith: Hey, I'm young. I'm gonna work my way up.
Angel: You feel young, do you, Faith? You're looking pretty worn out to me.



Wesley: Bitch. Not you. Obviously.

Cordelia: Well, if it's any consolation, it really does look like you were tortured by a much larger woman.

Wesley: Developed a sweet fang, have you?

Wesley: Won't she find it difficult enjoying delicious jelly-filled donuts, if she is, one assumes, bound and gagged?

Wesley: I do not, however, understand why the woman who brutally tortured me last night, this morning gets pastries.

Angel: It wasn't too long ago that you were the one making the case for her rehabilitation.
Wesley: It wasn't too long ago I had full feeling in my right arm.

Wesley: There is evil in that girl, Angel.

Angel: He'll come around.
Cordelia: Wesley? Sure. People always get a little funny right after they've been sadistically tortured. Well, you'd know.

Angel: Paid vacation?
Cordelia: Like I'm gonna stick around here while psycho case is roaming loose downstairs, with three tons of medieval weaponry. Not! Oh, and I was thinking, suger high, maybe not a great idea.

Kendrick: Oh, come on, Kate. Everybody knows you've gone all Scully. Anytime one of these weird cases crosses any one's desk, you're always there. What's going on with you?
Kate: Scully's the skeptic.
Kendrick: Huh?
Kate: Mulder's the believer, Scully's the skeptic.
Kendrick: Scully's the chick, right?
Kate: Yes.

Council Guy: That was a nasty business back in Sunnydale. But nobody blames you.
Wesley: Really? Because I rather got the impression they did when they sacked me.

Faith: So, how does this work?
Angel: There's no real simple answer to that. I won't lie to you, and tell you it'll be easy, cause it won't be. Just because you decided to change, doesn't mean the world's ready for you to. The truth is, no matter how much you suffer, no matter how many good deeds you do to try and make up for the past, you may never balance out the cosmic scale. The only thing I can promise you, is that you'll probably be haunted, and maybe for the rest of your life.
Faith: [Touches the microwave] So, how does this work?

Faith: How do you say "Gee, really sorry that I tortured you nearly to death?"
Angel: Well, first off, I think I'd leave off the "Gee."

Faith: I gotta be the first Slayer in history to be sponsored by a vampire.

Angel: Faith, this isn't about Buffy.
Faith: All my life, there was only one person who tried to be my friend, who went out of their way when I had no right or reason to expect her to and I screwed her…not to mention her boyfriend - only him, literally.
Angel: Faith, you and I never...
Faith: Not you...the new one.

Buffy: Giles heard...that she tried to kill you.
Angel: That's true.
Buffy: So you decided to punish her with a severe cuddling?

Buffy: You apologize to me, I will beat you to death.

Angel: She's not going to run, Buffy.
Buffy: Well, why would she? When she has her brave knight to protect her? What got you? Did she cry, pouty lips, heaving bosom?

Buffy: You hit me.
Angel: Not to go all schoolyard on you, but you hit me first.

Buffy: A cry for help is when you say "help" in a loud voice.

Buffy: I'm sorry, I can't be in your club. I've never murdered anybody.

Wesley: Angel, it wasn't for her.
Angel: I know.
Wesley: It's because I trust you. Well…more than three gun toting maniacs at any rate.

Faith: What do you wanna do? You gonna throw me off the roof? Again?

Angel: That's great. It's nice...you moved on. I can't. You found someone new. I'm not allowed to, remember? I see you again, it cuts me up inside, and the person I share that with is me. You don't know me anymore, so don't come down here with your great new life and expect me to do things you way. Go home.

Angel: For a taciturn shadowy guy, I got a big mouth.


War Zone

Cordelia: Mmmah. I've missed that smell.
Wesley: Camembert, I believe.
Cordelia: What? No. Money. I like to smell a little money once and awhile.
Angel: She's not just saying that. Hide some in the office some time and watch her. It's uncanny.

Angel: Thanks for having us.
David: It's a pleasure. Who are you?

David: I've always said that I could make a billion dollars in the software and learn to talk to girls. I'm...still working on step 2.

David: Are you familiar with Dungeons & Dragons?
Angel: Yeah, I've seen a few.
Wesley: You mean the, uh, role playing game.
Angel: Oh. Game. Right.

David: I used to play a lot in high school. You know, it was pretty cool. Get to be someone else for a while -- a wizard, a warrior, you know, whole world is magic, and you're fighting troglodytes and romancing exotic demon princesses. You know, it's a rush.
Cordelia: Did someone find out you were a big nerd?
David: No, that's actually public record.

Wesley: You went to Madame Dorian's.
David: Just once.
Wesley: It's a demon brothel.
David: Or twice.
Wesley: In Bel Air, I believe. The Watcher's Council is rife with stories about it.
Angel: How many...
David: Twelve times.
Angel: ...people knew about you doing it?

Cordelia: Don't worry, we're incredibly discreet. We'll mingle here for a few hours so no one suspects.

David: When I moved here, I thought it was all glamour and valet parking. There's a whole world here that no one ever sees.
Angel: More than one.

Madame Dorian: We don't do vampires.
Angel: I just came to talk.
Madame Dorian: We don't do that either.

Lenny: What do you want?
Angel: Good question. What do I want. Love, family, place on this planet I can call my own. But you know what?
Lenny: What?
Angel: I'm never going to have any of those things. And unless these few minutes go exactly the way I want them to, neither are you.

Angel: Ow! You know, for some reason, I'm getting the impression you don't like me too much. Maybe I'm just overreacting.

Wesley: Oh my.
Angel: It's upside down.
Wesley: Certainly not something you ought to have framed.
Cordelia: How does that feel?
Wesley: I can't possibly imagine it was pleasant.
Cordelia: I was talking to Angel.

Cordelia: You look...
Angel: Like I've been beaten and stabbed?
Cordelia: Want to see the check again?

Wesley: I can certainly understand their stake first and ask questions later state of mind. That's how they survive.
Cordelia: And the idea of a vampire in a white hat probably seems a little gimme-a-break-y.

Angel: Ah. Ah. Can I just see that check again?

Cordelia: You know, there's nothing like riding in a convertible with the top down to make you see the sun and sand. Mmmm. Smell that salt air.
Wesley: That's not salt.
Cordelia: I don't think it's air, either.

Cordelia: Reality is a choice, Wesley. You see what you want to see, and I'll see what I want to see.
Wesley: A man exiting an alley pushing a shopping cart.
Cordelia: No, I see a very tan lifeguard type with large. . .

Gunn: I don't need advice from some middle class white dude that's dead!

Alana: On this side, there's no guilt, no grief. Just the hunt and the kill. And the fun!

Cordelia: Trying to open that? They locked you in, huh?
Angel: No. I just love old meat lockers.
Wesley: You should have tried to call us on your cell phone...You probably forgot you had it.
Angel: These things hardly ever work. Besides it was a lot easier and quicker to just...Look, I'm the boss here. I say when we use the cell phones, and people are gonna die, and I have to go.
Cordelia: You're welcome.

Wesley: I asked for a coffee. I know it must be in here someplace.

Wesley: Certainly gives one a sense of perspective, doesn't it?
Cordelia: Yes. It does. And I think, perspectively speaking, I might want to prostitute myself to billionaire David Nabbit.
Wesley: Cordelia!
Cordelia: What I mean is, he's a nice guy who wants companionship. I could use some security. So when I say "prostitute," what I mean is...
Wesley: Prostitute.
Cordelia: For instance.

Wesley: Do you think you really could?
Cordelia: I dunno. I could probably learn to love him. Looks aren't everything. Chemistry. Personality, that's important. And except for a lot of...other...It's not what's on the outside that...Nah. Never mind.

Angel: I'll be around.
Gunn: I don't need no help.
Angel: I might.


Blind Date

Wesley: Demons with one eye, demons with twelve eyes, some with double vision. No blind demons. Perhaps Angel's discovered a new species?
Cordelia: What? Helen Kellerus Homicidilus?

Wesley: Angel said it was as if she anticipated his actions before he carried them out.
Cordelia: A handy skill -- in a fight or on a date.

Wesley: You found her?
Cordelia: Our first stop doesn't always have to be World of the Weird, you know. Sometimes actual human people can be just…awful.

Wesley: The human eye is only capable of registering a small portion of the electromagnetic spectrum. But if Brewer were somehow equipped to see outside that range...
Cordelia: She'd be Superman.

Angel: How am I supposed to fight evil if they won't even put it behind bars?

Angel: How am I expected to do battle if I can't even get into the ring?

Angel: It's their system, and it's one that works. It works because there's no guilt, there's no torment, no consequences. It's pure. I remember what that was like. Sometimes I miss that clarity.
Cordelia: But…not the trying to kill your friends and family part, right?

Lindsey: I don't want to be here any more than you want to see me. I don't have a choice.
Angel: You always have a choice. You sold your soul for a fifth floor office and a company car.

Lindsey: What was your father? A merchant, right? Linen and silk? Did pretty well. Had a couple of servants -- 'til you killed them.
Angel: Just the one.

Lindsey: I guess it's fair to say you've never seen anything like real poverty. I'm talking dirt poor. No shoes, no toilet. Six of us kids in one room. And come flu season it was down to four. I was seven when they took the house. They just came right in and took it. And my daddy's bein' nice, you know? Joking with the bastards while he signs the deed. See we had a choice -- you got stepped on or you got to steppin'. And I swore to myself I wasn't goin' to be the guy standing there with a stupid grin on my face while my life got dribbled out…
Angel: Ooof. I nodded off. Did you get to the part where you're evil?

Lindsey: I go back there; they're gonna kill me.
Angel: That's what we call an acceptable risk.

Lindsey: I get myself killed, that'll convince you I've changed?
Angel: It's a start.

Cordelia: Why are you going in at all? I thought Born Again Boy was gonna do it?

Cordelia: Well then, it seems pretty simple -- except for the you'll- definitely-get-caught factor.

Gunn: Give me one good reason.
Angel: It'll be extremely dangerous.
Gunn: Okay!

Gunn: Woo-hoo!! My God! They told me it was true, but I didn't believe 'em. But damn, here it is! Evil white folks really *do* have a mecca.

Cordelia: Hey, guess what they've been doing all day.
Wesley: Uh, saving the world?
Cordelia: Well, yeah! But they've been breaking encrypted computer files, too.
Angel: What are the odds, huh?

Cordelia: Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Okay. Willow says "Hey."

Cordelia: Are you telling me self-mutilating, psycho assassin chick reached enlightenment?

Lindsey: Sorry I'm late. Hope I didn't worry anyone.
Cordelia: We just figured you were dead.

Wesley: There is a design, Angel -- hidden in the chaos as it may be. But it's there. And you have your place in it.

Lindsey: You're offering me my job back?
Hammond: Oh no. I'm offering you a new job. A permanent one. With a thundering raise and ungodly benefits.


To Shanshu in LA

Cordelia: What's taking so long?
Wesley: Gee, I don't know, Cordelia. The Prophecies of Aubergion were only written over the last 4,000 years, in a dozen different languages, some of which aren't even human! Why don't we just get a Phalangoid Demon in here, suck the brain out of my skull. Maybe that would speed things up.
Cordelia: He sure gets testy when he's translating.

Cordelia: Nobody gets my humor.
Angel: I thought it was funny.

Wesley: After all you did for him, he sells his soul for 30 pieces of silver.
Cordelia: Actually, he sold it for a six figure salary and a full benefits package.

Nabbit: What did I do today? Spun off my digital pager network, made a few more million…Alright several. Big whup. What does that mean?
Cordelia: No more shopping at a Penny Saver?

Wesley: I think I know what it means.
Cordelia: A very wealthy man with just no life at all?
Wesley: No, the word in the scroll.
Cordelia: That shoeshine thing?

Cordelia: Angel's going to die?
Angel: Oh. Anything else?

Cordelia: He certainly took that well. Is this that opportune time to talk about my raise?

Cordelia: I ever meet those Powers That Be, I am going to punch them in the nose. Do you think they have a nose?

Wesley: Every source says it's death.
Cordelia: Well, it's a prophecy. It's not like it came from on high.
Wesley: That's what a prophecy is, Cordelia.

Cordelia: Angel faces death all the time. Just like a normal guy who faces waffles and french fries. It's something he faces every day, like . . . lunch! Are you hungry?

Wesley: That fact that his death is prophesied, which isn't good news, doesn't concern me nearly as much as the way he took that news.
Cordelia: What? He didn't scream like a girl as some of us would have? Angel's cool.

Wesley: What connects us to life?
Cordelia: Right now? I'm going with donuts.

Cordelia: What are you saying, Wesley? That Angel has nothing to look forward to? That he's going to go on forever, the same? In the world, but always cut off from it?
Wesley: Yes.
Cordelia: That sucks!

Cordelia: Well, he's going to have to start wanting things from life, whether he wants to or not!

Cordelia: You're cut off from life. But don't worry, I'm going to help you with that.
Angel: Oh. Good.
Cordelia: We'll start small. Keep it simple. How would you like . . . a puppy? Right. A ficus? They're low maintenance. Ant farm?

Cordelia: He's not crazy or anything. He's just different.
Street vendor: Depressed?
Cordelia: Well, he wears a lot of black.

Angel: I'm sick and tired of you blaming me for everything you can't handle. You want to be enemies? Try me.

Oracle: I can't stay long. I've been dead a while. So far, I don't like it.

Gunn: You get enough iron? You look a little pale…Okay, it's traditional in the human world to humor people who've done favors for you in the past.

Angel: Don't believe everything you're foretold.

Wesley: Here's something.
Angel: What?
Wesley: The Beast of Amalfi. A razor-toothed, six-eyed harbinger of death. . . No. Wait. That's due to rise in 2003 in Reseda.

Cordelia: Don't be embarrassed. We're family.

Wesley: I…I'm not used to. . .
Angel: He's not used to the new you.
Cordelia: I know what's out there now. We have a lot of evil to fight, a lot of people to help. I just hope Skin-n-Bones here can figure out what those lawyers raised sometime before that prophecy kicks in and you croak…that was the old me wasn't it?
Angel: I like them both.

Wesley: Uh. . . . oops. I may have made a tiny mistake. The, uh, word -- shanshu -- that I said meant you were going to die? Actually, I think it means you're going to live.
Cordelia: Okay, as tiny mistakes go, that's *not* one.

Wesley: It's saying that you get to live until you die. It's saying…It's saying you become human.

Wesley: The vampire with a soul, once he fulfills his destiny will shanshu -- become human. It's his reward.
Cordelia: Wow. Angel human.
Angel: That'd be nice.

Cordelia: What was that thing about him having to fulfill his destiny first?
Wesley: Well, it's, uh, it won't happen tomorrow or the next day. He has to survive the coming darkness, the apocalyptic battles, a few plagues, and some. . . oh, several--not that many--fiends that will be unleashed upon the world.
Angel: So don't break out the champagne just yet.

Cordelia: Typical. I hook up with the only person in history who ever came to LA to get older.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Go to Angel, season two
Go to Angel, season three
Go to Angel, season four

Go back to Index


'I don't need a life, I have Buffy!'

Author: Millan