I walk. I talk. I shop. I sneeze. I’m gonna be a fireman when the floods roll back. There’s trees in the desert since you moved out, and I don’t sleep on a bed of bones.
This isn’t your business. It’s mine. You, the Initiative, the boys at the Pentagon… You’re in way over your heads. Messing with primeval forces you’ve got no comprehension of… I’m the Slayer. You’re playing on my turf.
“You feel smothered. Trapped like an animal. Pure in its ferocity. Unable to actualize the feelings within. Clinging to one truth, like a flame, struggling to burn within an enclosed glass: that a beast this powerful cannot be contained. Inevitably, it will break free and savage the land again. I will make you whole again, […]
I was waiting. I feel like some part of me will always be waiting for you. Like if I’m old and blue-haired and I turn the corner in Istanbul, and there you are. I won’t be surprised… Because you’re with me, you know?
Buffy: Anya, tell them about the alternate universes. Anya: Oh, okay. Um… say you really like shrimp a lot. Or we could say you don’t like shrimp at all. “Blah, I wish there weren’t any shrimp,” you’d say to yourself – Buffy: Stop! You’re saying it wrong.
You think you matter, you think you’re a part of something, and you get dumped. It’s like the whole world is moving, but you’re stuck. Like those animals in the tar pits. It’s like you just keep sinking a little deeper everyday, and nobody even sees!
That was the idea. Riley was supposed to be Mr. Joe Guy. We were gonna do dumb things like hold hands through the daisies going “tra la la.”
Oh, you mean the camo and stuff. I thought about it, but on me it’s gonna look all Private Benjamin. Don’t worry, I’ve patrolled in this halter many times.
You know what gets me? This is what gets me. Twenty years I’ve been fighting demons. Maggie Walsh and her nancy ninja boys come in; six months later, demons are pissing themselves with fear. They never even noticed me. What am I? I’m an unemployed librarian with a tendency to get knocked on the head.
Honey, we need to talk about the invitations. Now, do you want to be “William the Bloody” or just “Spike,” because either way, it’s gonna look majorly weird.
“And the thing is, I like my evil like I like my men. Evil. You know, ‘straight up, black hat, tied to the train tracks, soon my electro-ray will destroy Metropolis’ bad. Not all mixed up with guilt and the destruction of an indigenous culture.”
OK, she’s wearing the halter top with sensible shoes. That means mostly dancing, light contact, but don’t push your luck. Heavy conversation’s out of the question. If you hurt her, I will beat you to death with a shovel. A vague disclaimer is nobody’s friend. Have fun!
“Or you’re the wolf all the time. And this human face is just your disguise.”
“Just how gullible do you think I am? I mean, with your gentle eyes and your shy smile and your ability to talk openly only to me. You’re unbelievable! That’s right. I got your number, id boy. Only thing you’re thinking about is how long before you can jump on my bones.”
“If we cannot scare the young women, they will not fall into our arms. We’ll have womanless arms. Halloween’s not about thrills, chills, and funny costumes. It’s about getting laid.”