Giles: Our New Führer, Mr Snyder
Willow: I think they call ‘em ‘principals’ now.

Buffy: Giles, unto every generation is born one who must run the annual talentless show. You cannot escape your destiny.
Giles: If you had any shred of decency, you would have participated, or at least, um, helped.
Buffy: Nah! I think I’ll take on your traditional role… and watch.
Xander: And mock.
Willow: And laugh!

Snyder: I know the three of you will come up with a wonderful act for the school to watch. And mock. And laugh. At.

Buffy: Does that mean anything to you? Besides ooooooooooooo?

Willow: The creep factor is also heightened. It could be anyone. It could be me! (gets looks from them all) It’s not, though.

Marc: Here, pick a card.
Giles: Uh, um…
Marc: No, wai-wai-wai-wait. Not that one. Pick this one.

Cordelia: It’s just such a tragedy for me. Emma was, like my best friend.
Xander: Emily.

Cordelia: All I can think is, it coulda been me!
Xander: We can dream.

Xander: Okay, next time we split up someone else is on Cordy detail. Five more minutes with her and we woulda had another organ donor.

Joyce: Hi, hon. How’s it, uh, going with the talent show?
Buffy: It’ll be over soon.
Joyce: It can’t be that bad! I, for one, am looking forward to seeing your act.
Buffy: Seeing? I-in the sense of actually attending?
Joyce: Of course!
Buffy: Uh-uh! No, Mom, y-y-you can’t! And, I mean, if I know you’re out there watching, I’ll freeze up, stage fright.
Joyce: But I wanna support what you’re doing!
Buffy: Look, Mom, if you really love me, and wanna show your support, you’ll stay away. Far away.

Giles: Oh! I’m sorry. Um, your hair, uh….
Cordelia: There’s something wrong with my hair?……. Ohmigod!
Giles: Xander was right. It worked like a charm.

Buffy: Okay, everyone looks at me like I’m in a bunny suit, ‘cause that’s how stupid I fell saying this… I think Sid was in my room last night.

Cordelia: I, I can’t go out there. All those people staring at me and judging me like I’m some kind of…. Buffy! What if I mess up?
Giles: Cordelia, there, uh, there-there’s, uh, uh, an adage, uh, that, uh, if you’re feeling nervous then, uh, you should imagine the entire audience are in their underwear.
Cordelia: Eww! Even Mrs Franklin? Uhhh!
Giles: Perhaps not.

Sid: Of course, if you want to snuggle up and comfort me….
Buffy: So, that horny dummy thing really isn’t an act, is it?
Sid: Nope!
Buffy: Yuk!

Buffy: This means that whatever’s out there still needs a healthy, intelligent brain.
Xander: In other words, I’m safe!

Willow: What could a demon possibly want from me?
Xander: What’s the square root of 841?
Willow: 29. Oh, yeah!

Willow: Oh, ruler of my country, Oedipus, you see our company around the Altar, and I, the priest of Zeus!
Xander: Ha, ha! They prophesise that I should kill my father. But he is dead. And hidden deep in the soil. But surely I must fear my mother’s bed.
Buffy: Oh, Oedipus, Oedipus, unhappy Oedipus, that is all I can call you, and all that I ever shall call you.
Xander: And horror of darkness. Unfolding, restless, visitant, sped by an ill wind in haste. Madness, and … Madness a-and stabbing pain, and, a-and, uh… oh…oh… memory of, uh, I-ill deeds I have done.