Quotes from Fool for Love

Buffy: Don't worry, accelerated healing powers come with the slayer package. And the boyfriend who comes complete with combat medical training, that's just a Buffy Summers bonus.

Dawn: Come on, who's the man?
Buffy: You are... a very short annoying man.

Dawn: When do I get to patrol?
Buffy: Not until you are never.

Xander: You know what he's like? He's like a cat. Y'know, a big jungle cat. How come I'm not like that? It's just so cool.
Willow: I think you're cool.

Buffy: Gotta love a gal with an anvil.

Buffy: I realize that every slayer comes with an expiration mark on the package, but I want mine to be a long time from now... like a Cheeto.

Giles: The problem is... after a... final battle... that, uh, it's difficult to get any, um, well the... the slayer's not... she's rather um...
Buffy: It's okay to use the D word, Giles.
Giles: Dead. And, hence, not very forthcoming.
Buffy: Why didn't the Watchers keep fuller accounts of it? The journals just stop.
Giles: I suppose if they're anything like me, they just found the whole subject too, uh...
Buffy: Unseemly? Damn. Love ya, but you Watchers are such prigs sometimes. Painful, I was going to say.

Spike: Ow. Wait, not ow. Are you feeling all right, Slayer? This stuff usually hurts.

Spike: You know, there are quite a few American beers that are highly underrated. This, unfortunately, is not one of them.

Noblewoman: They call him William the Bloody because of his bloody awful poetry.
Nobleman: It suits him. I'd rather have a railroad spike through my head than listen to that awful stuff.

Darla: I think our boys are going to fight.
Drusilla: The King of Cups expects a picnic, but this is not his birthday.
Darla: Good point.

Spike: Lesson, the first. A slayer must always reach for her weapon. I've already got mine.

Drusilla: I smell fear.
Angelus: Yeah, this whole place reeks of it.
Drusilla: It's intoxicating.
Angelus: Let's get out of here, this rebellion's starting to bore me.

Spike: Lesson, the second. Ask the right questions. You want to know how I beat 'em? The question isn't how'd I win, the question is, why'd they lose.
Buffy: What's the difference?
Spike: There's a big difference, love.

Buffy: You think we're dancing?
Spike: That's all we've ever done.

Spike: Death is your art. You make it with your hands, day after day. That final gasp, that look of peace. Part of you is desperate to know: what's it like? Where does it lead you? Now, you see, that's the secret. Not the punches you throw, not the kicks you land, she really wanted it. Every slayer has a death wish. Even you.

Spike: Come on. I can feel it, slayer. You know you want to dance.
Buffy: Say I do want to. It wouldn't be you, Spike. It would never be you. You're beneath me.

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