Anya: I like you. You're funny and you're nicely shaped. And, frankly, it's ludicrous to have these interlocking bodies and not... interlock. Please remove your clothing now.
Xander: And the amazing thing? Still more romantic than Faith.

Anya: I uh, I don't talk to people much. I mean, I talk to them, but they don't talk to me. Except to say that "your questions are irksome," or "perhaps you should take your furs and your literal interpretations to the other side of the river."

Anya: I wish you had tentacles where your beady eyes should be! I wish your intestines were tied in knots and ripped apart inside your lousy gut!
Xander: They are.
Anya: Really? [brightening] Right now? Does it hurt?
Xander: God, yes. It hurts so bad it's killing me. Anya, I love you. I want to make this work.
Anya: Those are... metaphor intestines! You're not in any real pain!

Anya: I, Anya, promise to cherish you. Yeah, no, not cherish. Um, I promise to have sex with you whenever I want, and uh, uh, pledge to be your friend, your wife, and your confidante, and your sex poodle-
Tara: Uh, "sex poodle"?

Anya: Is Xander all right?
Dawn: Looks okay.
Anya: Damn him!

Anya: It's dangerous, and so is all of us dying.
Xander: Will, look I don't wanna gang up on you, but Anya kinda has a point. We brought you back from it once, we're all here. It's one little spell. Whatever happens we can bring you back again.
Willow: No, I can't. If I start I.. I might not be able to stop.
Anya: And whose fault is that?? You know if you hadn't gotten so much of this in your system in the first place--
Tara: Hey! You're gonna back off. She said no and that's it. You're not gonna make her do something that she doesn't want to. And if you try, you have to go through me first. Understood?

Anya: Like pudding, am I right? Rice or tapioca, lumpy like that.
Xander: We have to find Buffy, she's gotta know.
Anya: I don't think Buffy's going to be too broken up over a pylon.
Xander: Anya, whatever's happening to the pylon will probably happen to her. If we don't find Buffy, I mean, if we don't figure out how this was done...
Anya: She's pudding.

Anya: Okay... I know you're all upset... and I, myself, would much rather be sitting at the bedside of my one-eyed ex-fiancé than killing time here with you people in this overcrowded and, might I add, increasingly ripe-smelling basement. And I would be, too, if not for a certain awkward discussion he and I recently had right over there on that cot immediately following some exciting and unexpected breakup sex.
[The Potentials on the cot awkwardly get off it. Andrew jots down "breakup sex" on the board.]

Anya: She came from the grave much graver.
Spike: First he'll kill her, then I'll save her.
Tara: Everything is turning out so dark.
Buffy: Going through the motions...
Spike: No, I'll save her, then I'll kill her.
Willow: I think this line's mostly filler...
Giles: What's it gonna take to strike a spark?
Buffy: These endless days are finally ending in a blaze
All: And we are caught in the fire The point of no return. So we will walk through the fire, And let it Burn.

Anya: So I was wondering... maybe if you're free this weekend... we could do some... entertaining thing.
Xander: Would that be along the lines of you telling me all about the men you destroyed back in your demon days? 'Cause pencil me in!
Anya: Well, we could do something else you like. We could, um, watch sports of some kind.
Xander: Uh, I don't know.
Anya: Men like sports. I'm sure of it.
Xander: Yes, men like sports. Men watch the action movie, they eat of the beef, and enjoy to look at the bosoms. A thousand years of avenging our wrongs, and that's all that you've learned?

Anya: That's so very humorous. Make fun of the ex-demon! I can just hear you in private: [speaking to a chicken foot] "I dislike that Anya. She's newly human and strangely literal."
Willow: Anya, I don't say that. No one says that. No one talks that way.

Anya: The power of the Wish made me a righteous sword to smite the unfaithful.
Xander: Well, hey! Good luck with that. Hope it works out for you.
Anya: You know, you can laugh, but I have witnessed a millennium of treachery and oppression from the males of the species, and I have nothing but contempt for the whole libidinous lot of them.
Xander: Then why you talking to me?
Anya: [averting her eyes] I don't have a date for the prom.
Xander: Well, gosh! I wonder why not. It couldn't possibly have anything to do with your sales pitch?
Anya: Men are evil... Will you go with me?
Xander: One of us is very confused, and I honestly don't know which.
...
Anya: When I lost my powers I got stuck with this persona, and now I have all these feelings. I don't understand it. I don't like it. All I know is I really want to go to this dance and I want someone to go with me.
...
Anya: Look, I know you find me attractive. I've seen you looking at my breasts.
Xander: Nothing personal, but when a guy does that it just means his eyes are open.
Anya: Whatever. Look, do you wanna go with me or not?
[Xander's eyes lower for a second, then flick back up to Anya's face.]

Anya: Warren shot Buffy. Warren shot Tara. Buffy's alive, Tara is dead. Willow found out, and, being the most powerful wicca in the western hemisphere she decided to get the payback, with interest.
Andrew: What about Warren?
Anya: She killed him. Ripped him apart and bloodied up the forest doing it. Now she's coming here and the two of you are next.
Andrew: Oh my god, Warren!
Jonathon: Oh my god, me!

Anya: Well maybe we shouldn't do this re-integration thing right away. See, I can take the boys home and we can all have sex together, and then, you know, just slap 'em back together in the morning.
Cool Xander: She's joking.
Loser Xander: No she's not! She entirely wants to have sex with us together, which is wrong and... and it would be very confusing.
Giles: We just need to arrange the candles; also, we should continue to pretend we heard none of the disturbing sex talk.
Willow: Check. Candles and pretense.
...
Anya: Well, what do we do if it doesn't work?
Both Xanders: [simultaneously] Kill us both, Spock! [both laugh]
Buffy: They're... kinda the same now.
Giles: Yes, he's clearly a bad influence on himself.

Anya: Well, I get to run the store, right?
Giles: [alarmed] You? Ah, w-well, it's quite a lot for one person to take care of.
...
Willow: We can come by between classes. Usually I use that time to copy over my class notes with a system of different colored pens, but it's been pointed out to me that that's, you know, insane.
Tara: I said "quirky."
...
Giles: Um, Anya, while, while I completely trust you uh, uh, to take care of the inventory and the money, um ... dealing with people requires a certain, uh ... finesse.
Anya: [angrily] I have finesse! I have finesse coming out of my bottom! I can completely lie to the health inspector. I can, you know, distract him with coy smiles, and-and bribe him with money and goods.
Xander: See there? She'll be great.
Willow: Don't worry, Giles. I'll help her take care of everything. It'll be ship-shape. Better, it'll be shop-shape.