Anya: I don't understand. I'm pretty, I'm young. Why didn't you take advantage of me? Is something wrong with your body?
Xander: There's nothing wrong with my body.
Anya: Well, there must be. I saw that wrinkled man on TV talking about erectile dysfunction...
Buffy: Think about it - who better to bring together a bunch of demon types than someone who's made out of a bunch of demon types?
Tara: So, he's, um, bridging the gap between the races.
Willow: Huh. Like Martin Luther King.
(as Riley and Buffy run off)
Willow: They're probably goin' to...
Giles: Yes, thank you, Willow. I did attend University in the Mesozoic Era. I do remember what it's like.
Xander: Is it me? Am I the crazy one?
Buffy: Uh-huh. Absolutely.
Willow: Hey, Buffy? This might be a good time to mention that someone so not me spilled something purpley on your new peasant top, which I would never borrow without asking. Still love me?
Buffy: Uh-huh. Huh? What about my peasant top?
Anya: A year and a half ago, I could have eviscerated him with my thoughts. Now I can barely hurt his feelings. Things used to be so much simpler.
Spike: You know... you take the killing for granted. And then it's gone, and you're like... I wish I'd appreciated it more. Stopped and smelled the corpses, you know?
Anya: Yeah. Now everything's complicated.
Xander: "Lowell House. 1962."
Xander: Uh, just, you know, impressing you with my knowledge of local history. Or my knowledge of reading.
Julie: And you didn't even have to sound anything out!
Xander: You should see me add short columns of small numbers.
Julie: You're funny.
Xander: Thanks. That is, funny "how amusing", or funny "back away and avoid eye contact"?
Julie: Kinda both.
Willow: We have to go back in there.
Xander: Because Buffy and Riley are trapped.
Anya: So? She's a Slayer. He's a big soldier-boy. What do they need you for?
Xander: Anya, look around. There's ghosts and shaking, and people are going all Felicity with their hair.
Giles: When you called to Buffy and Riley, they didn't cry out or respond in any way?
Anya: No. They're probably dead.
Xander: Unless they were too busy doin' it to answer.
Giles: Doing what?
Xander: You know, for a god of acoustic rock, you're... kind of naive.
Giles: I didn't think you meant... In the midst of all that, do you really think they were keeping it up? Oh, for a different phrasing.
Xander: So with Buffy and Riley having... you know, acts of nakedness around the clock lately, maybe they set something free, like a big, bursting poltergasm.
Xander: What do you feel?
Anya: Upset, afraid of being without you, and a little hungry.
Xander: I meant about the house.
Anya: Oh. Still haunted.
Buffy: If Riley and I hadn't... gotten so wrapped up in each other, none of this would have happened.
Anya: True. Feel shame.