Cordelia: Something the matter?
Angel: I, um, I think it's gone bad. It's starting to coagulate.
Cordelia: Huh? No. That's cinnamon. What? I can't try something?

Judy: My boyfriend? He's kind of the jealous type.
Angel: Maybe you shouldn't go wandering into other men's rooms.

He's goin' down.


Judy: The entire universe explodes!
Angel: Sounds exciting.
Judy: Well, it's air conditioned.

Judy: Can you imagine that wallpaper being the last thing you see before you go?
Angel: Maybe it was the wallpaper that drove him to it.

It's just blood, Judy. It's all just blood.

Judy: I'm not one thing or the other. I am nothing!
Angel: I know what that's like.

It's been a long time since I've opened a vein, but I'll do it you pull any more of that Van Helsing Jr. crap with me. Are we clear?

Denver: So, you were, what, about my age when you were made?
Angel: I don't know. How old are you?
Denver: Just north of 30.
Angel: [Indignant] No!

Denver: Vampire wanting to slay a demon in order to help some grubby humans? I just don't get it.
Angel: To be honest, I'm not sure I do either.

Angel: Guys, don't listen to it, alright? Whatever it's whispering to you, just ignore it.
Cordelia: They were like this all the way over here in the car.
Angel: Oh.

Thesulac: There's an entire hotel here just full of tortured souls who could really use your help. Whaddya say?
Angel: Take 'em all.

Angel: Watch his tentacles.
Cordelia: Excuse me?!
Wesley: Tentacles.

Judy: I'm so sorry I killed you. Can you forgive me?
Angel: Of course.

Cordelia: Are we finished?
Angel: Think so.
Cordelia: Good. Because I, for one, will be glad to see the last of this place. Gives me the heebie jeebies.
Gunn: No lie. Plus, it's kinda got an odor to it, you notice that?
Cordelia: Seventy years of violence, mayhem, and paranoia? Bad vibes.
Angel: We're moving in.
Cordelia: I mean, a few throw pillows -- what's not to love?

Wesley: Angel. You don't find me especially paranoid, do you?
Angel: Not especially.
Wesley: Oh, thank god. I was worried.

"First Impressions"

Club Host: Ooo. Send in the Clowns *and* Tears of a Clown -- both in one night. What a treat.
Angel: Yeah, well, uh, I was sort of going for a medley, uh, thing.
Club Host: Yeah, yeah. More of a duo-dley, though, wasn't it?

Angel (To Darla): I still can't believe you're here. I mean, I killed you.


David Nabbit: I stand ready to fight the good fight, sir. Whaddya need?
Angel: Financial advice.

Angel: Cordy? You're driving.
Cordelia: Me? Drive your car? So cool!

Cordelia: I am so sick of dust.
Angel: I can't lift my arm all the way.
Gunn: This vamp did a number on my ribs.
Wesley: 'Fraid I threw my back out again.

Wesley: That was quite a performance.
Cordelia: I know! Talk about wound up too tight.
Wesley: No. I - I mean Denzel.
Cordelia: Oh. Well, he's always great.
Wesley: (to Angel) What about you?
Angel: Who doesn't love Denzel?

Angel: What are you doing here?
Wesley: Gunn's in trouble. Can't. Breathe.
Angel: Gunn can't breathe?
Wesley: I...can't...breathe.
Angel: Oh. Sorry.
Wesley: Uh. Oh, s'quite all right. Now, about the naked thing.
Angel: I'll get dressed.
Wesley: Much appreciated.

Cordelia: There you go. Good as new.
Joey: I think you cracked my skull.
Cordelia: Well, that's new, right?

Wesley: What's the problem?
Angel: It's just, you know, the whole visibility issue not to mention the whole hat head thing, and I mean, when you really think about it how come I have to wear the lady's helmet?
Wesley: Stop being such a wanker and put it on.

Wesley: Looks good. Hop on board gorgeous.
Angel: You'll pay for this.

Wesley: Angel, look. I found your keys. Unfortunately, this substance doesn't appear to be coming off.
Angel: What is that?
Wesley: Demon blood. Or demon pus. Or possibly both.

Darla: Always the protector, never the protected.
Angel: I have so many things to make up for.
Darla: And you have. You take care of so many people. But who takes care of you?
Angel: (Smiles) You do.

Cordelia: We were just discussing whether or not we should offer to pay Gunn.
Angel: No you weren't.
Wesley: Well, our discussions tend to go about 3 minutes, then it's strictly name calling and hair pulling.

Cordelia: No think! Pay. That's an order.
Angel: Hey. How about we pretend that you work for me.
Cordelia: You are really unpleasant when you --
Angel: Then why don't we pretend that you don't.
Cordelia: You can't fire me. I'm Vision Girl.

Hey! You wanna get behind the tape? You gotta gawk, go home, watch a high speed chase on Fox.

I'm outta vice three weeks, I've seen enough amateur night crap to fill a miniseries. So you wanna pretend that's not a cub scout uniform and tell me about dead people?

Angel: You seen a girl tonight? Maybe a little scared, beat up?
Cop: Nu-huh. Nobody but our Mr. Bills. You know. (tiny voice) 'Oh, no! Mr. Bill!'

Bethany: What are you?
Angel: I've come to help you. My name is Angel.
Bethany: Ha. Ha. Great, I stabbed an angel. Now I'm really never getting into heaven.

Bethany: You can't make me go anywhere with you.
Angel: I think that message got through. I won't hurt you. And you can't hurt me. You may need that.
[Gives Bethany card. She runs. He falls to the ground.]
Angel: Okay. Maybe she can hurt me a little.

Cordelia: Stop moving.
Angel: I'm not.
Cordelia: Well then stop breathing.
Angel: I don't breathe.
Cordelia: Then...stop flexing your manly boob muscles or whatever.

Wesley: That's an ugly looking wound.
Angel: Doesn't feel pretty either.

Angel: We gotta find out everything we can about her.
Cordelia: Like, oh, say, her name?
Angel: I was impaled at the time.

Angel: Do you know how hard it is to think straight with a rebar through your torso?
Cordelia: Actually, I do. Benefits of a Sunnydale education.

Angel: She said she was staying with a friend.
Cordelia: Well, that narrow it down to people who have friends. Where do we keep that list?

Angel: She's just a girl.
Cordelia: Just a girl that could kill your ass by blinking.

Angel: What do we know about telekinesis.
Wesley: Ah yes. The power of moving things with one's mind. (thinks) That's pretty much it. The power of...moving. I'm better with demons, really.

Angel: I'm going to bed. S'been a long day.
Cordelia: You've been up for three hours.

Angel: Well?
Cordelia: Top of the middle of the day to you, too.

Cordelia: No leads worth mentioning. Of course, we lost a little time during my 45 minutes of sleep. Good thing I left clothes here, or you'd be smelling me even now.
Angel: You're safe here.
Wesley: We're all safe people.
Angel: This is Wesley, Cordelia.
Bethany: So it's a family business, huh?
Angel: Friends.

Angel: Would you like some tea?
Bethany: Yeah, please.
Cordelia: You shouldn't worry. Angel does this kind of thing all the time.
Bethany: Makes tea?
Cordelia: Helps people. You know, he helps people with problems.
Bethany: So what's wrong with you?
Wesley: Where to begin.

Bethany: She'll just think I'm crazy.
Angel: Are you?
Bethany: What?
Angel: Well, if you are, you know, crazy, I just think things will go smoother if I know up front.

Cordelia: There's something. She's got a vibe. I'm getting a vibe. She's vibe-y.
Wesley: I didn't notice a vibe.
Cordelia: Well, all evidence to the contrary, Wes, but you're not a woman.

Angel: You ever done it on purpose?
Bethany: Course not.
Angel: You never thought, "Man, that remote's too far away and I'd have to get up..."

Bethany: Don't start asking me a bunch of stupid questions: When were you potty trained? Name all your pets...Do you like hide and seek?
Angel: None of those were on my list.

Angel: You're gone.
Cordelia: You can't fire Wesley! I'll quite, too! Unless you're firm.

Bethany: I feel safe up here.
Angel: Yeah. You did pick the one room in the house that may collapse to feel safe in.

Bethany: People are pathetic.
Angel: I don't know. I kinda like 'em. Time I've lived, I've seen some horrors, scary behavior, couple fashion trends I constantly pray to forget, but I see people try. I see them try to do better.
Bethany: You sound like an old guy.
Angel: Oh, you know, I'm very well-preserved.

Angel: I was having a nightmare.
Bethany: Looked like a pretty happy dream. Maybe the covers were just rumpled.

Bethany: I've done stuff. I can make you happy.
Angel: You wouldn't like me when I'm happy.

Angel: You want to make love, but you don't want to be touched.
Bethany: Make love? What, are you from the 18th century?

Bethany: Are you shocked I'm a great big slut?
Angel: You'll find I'm not easily shocked, Bethany.

Angel: Looks like you're going to have to find someone else's brain to play with.
Lilah: Yeah, we have someone in mind.
Angel: Good night, Lilah.
Lilah: Sweet dreams.

Angel: Table seems far.
Cordelia: Aww, you must be all worn out from sleeping for the last three days. (To Wesley) It's like living with the world's oldest teen-ager. He can't be having a growth spurt at two hundred and forty-eight, could he?
Angel: Two-forty-seven.

Angel: You all right? You sure you don't want to sit down?
Cordelia: If I sit, I'll throw up in my head.

Cordelia: It's disciples are human; they're killing each other. I think the fight is over how to worship it.
Angel: This is why personally I rarely go to church.
(No response)
Angel: I thought it was funny.

Gaah! I didn't doze off. Here I am. Where were we?

Angel: Saint Bridget's, in Fremont. A convent, built on native burial grounds. The land's cursed, they had eight murders in two years before the whole place burned to the ground, which is nothing compared to what happened at Our Lady of Lochenbee... I got a thing for convents.

Angel: We're gonna need some muscle. Call Gunn. He's on the payroll now.
Wesley: Right! But not in a fixed way like me.

Angel: So kill the big ugly. Unthralls the groupies; they stop killing each other.
Wesley: Absolutely. Yes. That's...the theory.

Darla: I ran into Lord Nichols -- horrid little man. He was propositioning a streetwalker and dickering over the price. Can you imagine? I told him I'd do him for nothing.
Angelus: You're very charitable.
Darla: I so loathe cheap royalty.
Angelus: They all taste the same to me.

Angelus: You always come up with something new.
Darla: Keeps me young.

Angel: I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I've just been so out of it lately. Because of her. I saw her, here in town. Last night.
Cordelia: Oh no, not again. Look I like Buffy as much as the next--
Angel: Not Buffy, Darla.

Angel: I saw her. I'm not crazy.
Wesley: Where?
Angel: Right between the clowns and the big talkin' hot dog.

Guess you didn't take that whole dust to dust thing to heart, did you?

Angel: It was Darla. She's back, and she's human now, but I know her scent.
Wesley: Angel, you can't just sniff a person and --
Angel: You had sex last night, with a bleached blond.
Wesley: Good lord! How --
Cordelia: That's unbelievable. I didn't think you ever had sex.

Everybody have fun tonight. Ev-ery-body...I'm very sorry.

Angel: Tell me about Darla.
Host: Whoa, give me a sec. You are sending out some family-sized vibes; my fillings are still humming.

Angel: You won't tell me anything?
Host: I'll tell you you're headed into trouble, with a capital "Troub."

Darla: You made quite a mess out there -- the blood and habits everywhere.
Angelus: Convents. They're just a big cookie jar.

So, you're what Wolfram & Hart brought back in that box. And they brought you back human. They think I won't kill one. You want to know what I think? I think, they don't know me that well.

Angel: It's been a long time since I said this to anyone: But you can scream all you want.
Darla: Ooooh. I'm not gonna scream.

Angel: What's the big plan? Get me so screwed up I go bad again?
Darla: Kind of trite, I know. But what do you expect? They're only human.
Angel: Better embrace that mediocrity, honey. You're talking about your own kind now.

Darla: All you have do, is let me give you one little moment of happiness.
Angel: You took me places, showed me things. You blew the top off my head. But you never made me happy.

Angel: You couldn't understand.
Darla: I understand all right. Guy gets a taste of something fresh, and he thinks he's touching God.

Angel: You're gonna feel it, you know. What you did. That man you got killed.
Darla: Please. He was an actor.

Angel: Darla, you hurt anyone else, and I'll kill you.
Darla: Will you? Isn't that against your cub scout code?
Angel: I'll make an exception.

Wesley: There's going to be trouble.
Angel: There's gonna be a lot of trouble. And I say, bring it on.

Cordelia: Angel, this is crazy. Listen to yourself. You're all insane. And angry. And insane! You need help.
Angel: I'm not insane or angry.
(Elevator doors open. Angel skewers guard's foot clear through with his stake.)
Gunn: Man, that's nasty.
Angel: Maybe I am a little angry.

Angel: I guess I'm a little...rocky.
Host: You're Rocky. And Rocky II. And half of the one with Mr. T.

Angel: We're going. I don't have to sing.
Cordelia: Oh Thank God!...I mean, for your sake. Because I know you don't like to do that.

Swami: Nice ride.
Angel: Sorry?
Swami: Car. Very slick.
Angel: Thanks.
Swami: What kind of mileage you get with that thing?
Angel: I don't know...12 in the city, maybe.
Swami: Gas hog. Still, probably a chick magnet, right?
Angel: What? No.
Swami: You say so.
Angel: I thought we were going to talk about my problems?
Swami: That car is your problem, pal. It says everything about you.
Angel: The car.
Swami: Yes, the car. You live in LA. It's all about the car you drive.
Angel: I really don't think...
Swami: Vampire living in a city known for its sun, driving a convertible. Why do you hate yourself?
Angel: I don't. I got a deal.
Swami: You got a deal. Why not a personalized license plate that says "irony"?
Angel: The top goes up.
Swami: Appearance, very important to you.
Angel: That's not true.
Swami: Sure it is. So important that you're willing to put your eternal life at risk every time you hop into that thing, top up or not.
Angel: It's just a car.

Swami: So why all the layers? All the black? You know it's been like 80 degrees in the shade lately.
Angel: No reason. I don't have a body temperature, so...
Swami: So it's for the look.
Angel: No. It's just this way I don't have to worry about matching. I don't actually have a reflection, so...

Angel: Well, maybe my persona is a little affected...
Swami: A little affected? Come on. How many warriors slated for the coming apocalypse do you think are gonna be using that hair gel?

Angel: I can't let it control me.
Swami: Ahhh. I see. (Kicks Angel's butt.) You don't think it controls you?

Swami: You're deeply ambivalent.
Angel: Well, I am and I'm not.

Swami: (regarding Darla) What's she look like?
Angel: Look like? Beautiful...small, blonde...
Swami: Right. So here's what you do. You go out and you find yourself some small blonde thing. You bed her. You love her. The treat her like crap. You break her heart. You and your inner demon'll thank me, I promise.
Angel: Uh...

Swami: So you really can't...at all?
Angel: Well, it's part of what makes me special, right?
Swami: Right. No, that's real special.

Swami: What are you doing?!
Angel: Getting in touch with my inner demon.

Why is Wesley wearing my coat?

Wesley: Did you find out who hired him?
Angel: He wouldn't say...That is my coat, right?

Angel: What's going on? Where you in Virginia?
Wesley: That's beside the point.
Wesley: We have to go. Angel, you take Gunn and go to the front of the house. Cordelia, we'll go around the back...
Angel: Wesley?
Wesley: Oh, right. I'm sorry. You know this sort of thing best. How should we proceed? Angel: Um...Well, Gunn and I could...take the back?
Wesley: Very good. Let's go.
Angel: Um, Wesley? Can I get my coat back?

I'm not a eunuch.

Cordelia: Look at this!
Angel: (reads) "Virginia Bryce, squired by Mr. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, private detective and bodyguard to the stars . . ." "Squired"? Who says "squired"?
Cordelia: Look at him all over her!
Angel: Cordelia, you're just jealous that he's getting some attention.
Cordelia: Damn skippy! He's getting famous off this! Reflected glory? That's my thing!

Get a little perspective. (Reads again) "Bodyguard to the stars." Yeah right. There's no "Wyndam-Price Agency"!