Compiled by Kristina

Fred: You should've seen the size of the dust-bunnies under Cordy's bed. More like dust sperm whales!

Gunn: Well, you guys were supposed to meet up.
Angel: I know why I wasn't there.
Fred: Sure. Banished to the ocean depths by your ungrateful snot of a son.
Gunn: Not that she's bitter.
Angel: I appreciate you guys looking out for Connor all summer. It's just—he's confused. He needs time. That's all.
Fred: Right. Time, and some corporal punishment with a large heavy mallet. Not that I'm bitter.

Angel: I never got the chance to thank you. Finding me. Bringing me up. Must've been hard for you. No map. All that water. Look what—what went down between us... I had a lot of time down there—to think. You know, about the way things went, the way they could've gone. I just want you to know, as far as I'm concerned, we're OK again.

Angel: What's this?
Wes: What you came for. That is all I have on Cordelia's disappearance.
Angel: You did your own investigation.
Wes: I don't think she's dead. I can't say for certain of course, but I don't think she's in our dimension any longer. Beyond that - is a road I couldn't follow. No living thing can.

Angel: Keep it up, you're gonna make me seasick.
Dinza: I doubt it. I think it would've happened before now. Tell me, do you miss the sound of the waves?

Angel: Why should I trust you?
Dinza: Because I'd love to keep you... but you have so much more to lose.

Fred: We're still working on a plan, but so far, it involves being sent to prison and becoming somebody's bitch.
Angel: Nobody's going to jail, Fred. I told you, a heist like this, I've done it a million times. OK, maybe twice, but I'm good at it, I swear.
Gunn: Uh, you're not counting the time we stole the crazy-making death shroud that nearly killed us right?

Angel: I'm really strong, if that helps.

Gunn: OK, so what are we gonna need for "Operation Chance In Hell"?

Lilah: Good news is, you might've done me a favor. Soon as he dried off, Angel kicked Connor out of the hotel. Poor little guy, friendless, homeless... umm... looks like Connor's gonna need someone who cares, like a big sister, or a... Mrs. Robinson, if that's what he's into. I thought you liked the bad girls, Wes.

Gunn: Man, this is so much harder than it looks on Batman.

Fred: Please, let my cellmate be gentle.

Angel: Who are you?
Gwen: Who are you?
Angel: I asked you first.
Gwen: What are you, seven?

Angel: Miss me?
Lilah: Only in the sense of... no.

Lilah: Oh, God. The return of the moral high ground? This is that "guilt is it's own punishment" thing, isn't it?
Angel: Kind of my specialty.

Angel: You know what I find interesting? The fact that I can smell you and Wesley all over each other.

Fred: I am so sick of holding everything up around here. First Wesley leaves, then Angel, and Cordy. I-I'm sick of taking care of everything and paying bills and making peace and plans and keeping my chin up— God, I am so sick of my chin being up!
Gunn:You know what, just electrocute me now, 'cause I don't know what kind of alien female thing—
Fred: I thought it would get better when Angel came back. I-I thought I would finally be able to breathe again.
Gunn: Fred, no one forced this responsibility on you—
Fred: Well, who else was gonna do it? Who else was gonna hold everything up after you left me all alone? You died and left me all alone!

Gwen: What are you, Lex Luthor?

Angel: So you're a freak. Boo-hoo. So what?
Gwen: Excuse me?
Angel: I think you've already figured out I'm not the poster-boy for normal. Sometimes, you gotta let go.

Cordy: What are you? Deficient? Get me out of here!