Xander: So are you going to The Bronze tonight? Oh, probably not. You probably have some vampire slaying or some lame endeavour like that, don't you?

Xander: I mean, sure he says he's a high school student, but I can say I'm a high school student.
Buffy: You are.
Xander: Okay, but I can also say that I'm an elderly Dutch woman. Get me? I mean, who's to say I'm not if I'm in the Elderly Dutch Chat Room?

Giles: Things involving the computer fill me with a child-like terror. Now if it were a nice ogre or somesuch, I'd be more in my element.

Giles: Well, it's been so nice talking to you.
Jenny: We were fighting.
Giles: Must do it again sometime. Bye, now.

Xander: He's in a computer. What can he do?
Buffy: You mean besides convince a perfectly nice kid to try and kill me? I dunno, how about... mess up all the medical equipment in the world?
Giles: Randomize traffic signals.
Buffy: Access launch codes for our nuclear missiles.
Giles: Destroy the world's economy.
Buffy: I think I pretty much capped it with the nuclear missile thing.
Giles: Right. Yours was best.

Jenny: Computers don't smell, Rupert.
Giles: I know. Smell is the most powerful trigger to the memory there is. A certain flower or a whiff of smoke can bring up experiences long forgotten. Books smell. Musty and rich. The knowledge gained from a computer is... it has no texture, no context. It's there and then it's gone. If it's to last, then the getting of knowledge should be tangible, it should be, um... smelly.
Jenny: Well. You really are an old-fashioned boy, aren't you?
Giles: Well, I-I don't dangle a corkscrew from my ear.
Jenny: [grinning] That's not where I dangle it.

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