Buffy: I’d like to find Willow and Xander.
Joyce: Will you be slaying?
Buffy: Only if they give me lip.

Buffy: Didn’t anyone ever warn you about playing with pointy sticks? It’s all fun and games until somebody loses an eye.

Cordelia: Come in, Nighthawk! Everything okay?
Buffy: Nighthawk?

Buffy: You know, maybe it’s too late. Maybe we should just come tomorrow. What if he’s mad?
Xander: Mad? Just because you ran away and abandoned your post and your friends and your mom and made him lay awake every night worrying about you? Maybe we should wait out here.

Buffy: I got in a few hours ago, but I wanted to go see my mom first.
Giles: Yes. Yes, of course. How, how did you find her?
Buffy: Well, I pretty much remembered the address.

Xander: So where were you? Did you go to Belgium?
Buffy: Why would I go to Belgium?
Xander: I think the relevant question is why wouldn’t you? Bel-gium!

Buffy: I noticed. You guys seem down with the slayage, all tricked out with your walkies and everything.
Cordelia: Yeah, but the outfits suck. This whole Rambo thing is so over. I’m thinking more sporty, like Hilfiger maybe.
Willow: Still, we were getting good. We dusted nine out of ten.
Oz: Six out ten.

Giles: As for school, Buffy, uh, you know you’ll have to talk to Principal Snyder before…
Buffy: On it. Mom is making an appointment with His Ugliness. I know she can break him.

Snyder: I have not only the right, but also a nearly physical sensation of pleasure at the thought of keeping her out of school. I’d describe myself as tingly.
Joyce: Buffy was cleared of all those charges.
Snyder: Yes. And while she may live up to the not-a-murderer requirement for enrolment, she is a troublemaker, destructive to school property and the occasional student. And her grade point average is enough to… I’m sorry. Another tingle moment.
Joyce: I don’t see how you can be so cavalier about a young girl’s entire future!
Snyder: I’m quite sure that a girl with the talents and abilities of Buffy will land on her feet. In fact, I noticed as I cam in this morning that Hot Dog on a Stick is hiring. You will look so cute in that hat.

Joyce: No. But I had a thought. What if I invited Willow and Mr. Giles and everybody over for dinner tomorrow night? Don’t you think that would be nice? Since I sort of already did, I was hoping for a yes.

Joyce: I’ve been on the phone with the, uh, Superintendent of Schools. At least he seems more reasonable than that nasty little horrid, bigoted rodent-man.

Willow: What about Buffy’s welcome home dinner tonight? I had told her mom we’d help out. Bring stuff.
Cordelia: I’m the dip.
Xander: Uh, you gotta admire the purity of it.
Cordelia: What? Onion dip. Stirring, not cooking. It’s what I bring.
Oz: we should figure out what kinda deal this is. I mean, is it a-a gathering, a shindig or a hootenanny?
Cordelia: What’s the difference?
Oz: Well, a gathering is brie, mellow song stylings; shindig, dip, less mellow song stylings, perhaps a large amount of malt beverage; and hootenanny, well, it’s chock full of hoot, just a little bit of nanny.
Xander: Well, I hate brie.
Cordelia: I know. It smells like Giles’ cat.

Xander: Some kind of party, huh? I guess a lot of people are glad to have you back.
Buffy: It seems like people I didn’t even know missed me.

Willow: What, you just stopped by for your lint brush and now you’re ready to go?
Buffy: It’s not like anyone will mind.
Willow: Oh, no. Have a good time. Oh, oh, and don’t forget to not write.

Giles: Unbelievable. “Do you like my mask? Isn’t it pretty? It raises the dead”. Americans!

Joyce: Don’t you leave this house, young lady! You know what? That’s it. You and I are going to have a talk.
Buffy: Mom, please…
Joyce: You know what? I don’t care. I don’t care what your friends think of me, or you for that matter, because you put me through the wringer, Buffy. I mean it. And I’ve had schnapps. Do you have any idea what it’s been like?
Buffy: Mom, this isn’t the time…
Joyce: You can’t imagine months of not knowing. Not knowing whether you’re lying dead in a ditch somewhere or, I don’t know, living it up…
Buffy: But you told me! You’re the one who said I should go. You said if I leave this house, don’t come back. You found out who I really was, and you couldn’t deal. Don’t you remember?
Joyce: Buffy, you didn’t give me time. You just dumped this thing on me and you expected me to get it. Well, guess what? Mom’s not perfect, okay? I handled it badly. But that doesn’t give you the right to punish me by running away.
Buffy: Punish you? I didn’t do this to punish you!
Xander: Well, you did. You should’ve seen what you put her through.
Buffy: Great. Thanks. Anybody else want to weigh in here? How about you by the dip?
Jonathan: No, thanks. I’m good.
Xander: You know, maybe you don’t want to hear it, Buffy, but taking off like you did was incredibly selfish and stupid.
Buffy: Okay! Okay. I screwed up. I know this. But you have no idea! You have, you have no idea what happened to me or what I was feeling!
Xander: Did you even try talking to anybody?
Buffy: There was nothing that anybody could do. Okay? I just had to deal with this on my own.
Xander: Yeah, and you see how well that one worked out. You can’t just bury stuff, Buffy. It’ll come right back up to get you. (…)
Buffy: As if I even could’ve gone to you, Xander. You made your feeling about Angel and I perfectly clear.
Xander: Look. I’m sorry that your honey was a demon, but most girls don’t hop a Greyhound aver boy troubles.
Cordelia: Time out, Xander. Put yourself in Buffy’s shoes for just a minute. Okay? I’m Buffy, freak of nature, right? Naturally I pick a freak for a boyfriend, and then he turns into Mr. Killing Spree, which is pretty much my fault…
Buffy: Cordy! Get outta my shoes!
Cordelia: I’m just trying to help, Buffy.
Willow: Buffy, you never…
Buffy: Willow, please. I can’t take this from you, too.
Xander: Let her finish! You at least owe her that.
Buffy: God, Xander! Do you think you could at least stick to annoying me on your own behalf?
Xander: Fine! Stop acting like an idiot, I’ll stop annoying you!
Buffy: Oh, you wanna talk acting like an idiot. Nighthawk?
Oz: Okay. I’m gonna step in now, being Referee guy.
Willow: No. Let them go, Oz. Talking about it isn’t helping. We might as well try violence. … I was being sarcastic!

Giles: Cordelia, it’s me! It’s me!
Cordelia: How do we know it’s really you and not zombie Giles?
Giles: Cordelia, do stop being tiresome.
Cordelia: It’s him.

Giles: I’d like to have a word with you.
Snyder: If that word is Buffy, then I have two words for you: “good” and “riddance”. Now, if you don’t mind, I have an appointment with the Mayor.