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As you can see, nowhere near done but I'm on it...

City Of

Angel: You don't smell human.
Doyle: Well, that's very rude. As it happens I'm very much human
(SNEEZE) (we see his demon face)
Doyle: On my mother's side.

Angel: Where's home?
Tina: Missoula, Montana. You've been to Missoula?
Angel: During the Depression. Uh, my depression. I was depressed there.

Agent: You are a beautiful, beautiful man.
Angel: Thanks.
Agent: You're an actor.
Angel: No.
Agent: That wasn't a question. I'm Oliver. Ask anyone about Oliver. They'll tell you I'm a fierce animal. I'm your manager as soon as you call.
Angel: I'm not an actor.
Agent: Funny. I like the humor. I like the whole thing. Call me. This isn't a come on. I'm in a very serious relationship with a landscape architect.

Cordelia: Oh god. I'm sorry. I'm getting all weepy in front of you. I probably look really scary. I finally get invited to a nice place with... no mirrors... and .... lots of curtains.... Hey, you're a vampire!
Russell Winters: What? No I'm not.
Cordelia: Are too.
Russell Winters: I don't know what you're talking about.
Cordelia: I'm from Sunnydale. We have our own Hellmouth! I think I know a vampire when I ... am... alone with him in his fortress like home, and you know I think I'm just feeling a little light-headed from hunger. I'm just wacky! And kidding!

Doyle: You made a good choice. She'll provide a connection to the world. She's got a very ... humanizing influence.
Angel: You think she's a hottie.
Doyle: Ah, yeah, she's a stiffener alright. I can't lie about that.

Lonely Heart

Angel: There's our number.... it's right next to a, um, a butterfly?
Doyle: It's obviously not a butterfly you idiot, it's a, uh... bird. No, wait, no it's an owl! A bird that hunts at night! Brilliant! It's a ....
Cordelia: It's an angel!

Angel: I'm just wondering. Have you noticed anything unusual here tonight?
Bartender: Unusual?
Angel: Yeah, you know. Out of the ordinary? Possibly even dangerous?
Bartender: Don't worry. It's early yet. The real hot women don't mosey in until around 11.

Kate: So, um, what do you do?
Angel: Do?
Kate: For a living?
Angel: I, uh, well basically I'm uh, I help.... I'm a veterinarian.

Cordelia: I guess the single life is particularly tough on you.
Angel: Why?
Cordelia: Well, a couple hundred years ago, the only thing you had to worry about was a hangover. Today, because of your curse thingy, you can't sleep with anyone or else you might feel a moment of true happiness and lose your soul, become evil -- again -- and kill everyone.
Angel: Thanks Cordelia. I always appreciate your perspective.

Angel: I'm just asking you not to go in there.
Kate: Where are you going?
Angel: In there.
Kate: Well, I'll tell you what. I can go wherever I want, and you can go to Hell.
Angel: Been there. Done that.

Angel: I know you guys have been working hard and cooped up inside a lot. And, uh, to show my appreciation, I was thinking, the night being you know, young and all... that the three of us could, well, should maybe ... go out. You know... for fun.
Cordelia: Or.... we can... go home!
Doyle: And you can sit in the dark alone.
Angel: God yes. Thank you.

Into The Dark

Spike: "How can I thank you, you mysterious black-clad-hunk-of-a-knight-thing?"
"No need little lady. Your tears of gratitude are enough for me. You see, I was once a bad-ass vampire. But love, and a pesky curse, defanged me. And now, I'm just a *big* fluffy puppy with bad teeth. No! Not the hair! Never the hair."
"But there must be some way I can show my appreciation."
"No, helping those in need's my job. And working up a load of sexual tension and prancing away like a magnificent poof is truly thanks enough."
"I understand. I have a nephew who's gay, so..."
"Say no more. Evil's still afoot. And I'm almost out of that Nancy-boy hair gel I like so much. Quickly! To the Angel-mobile! Away!"

Oz: Hello, L.A.
Cordelia: Oz? Oh my god. Oz! I am so happy to see you! Good old Oz! Oz. Oz!
Doyle: Let me just take a stab at this, but... you'd be Oz?
Oz: Good guess.

Cordelia: Okay, we have serious catching up to do. How's everything? How's... how's the Bronze?
Oz: The same.
Cordelia: And the gang?
Oz: They're good.
Cordelia: Good? Good. Good.
Oz: Are we done?
Cordelia: Completely.

Cordelia: Hey, Buffy. How is good old Buffy anyway?
Oz: She's....
Cordelia: What? Still the brave little Slayer? Or is she moping around in the dark like . . . . nobody around here. Hmm-mmm.

Cordelia: Frankie Tripod? Oh, I get it. Some kind of three-legged monster, right?
Doyle: No, he's human.
Cordelia: Then what's his name supposed to.... oh.

Marcus: He's known love.
Spike: Yeah, with a Slayer no less. How's that for perversion?
Marcus: And he has a soul.
Spike: Right. Vampire with a soul. Cursey cursed to walk the earth, trying to do good. That's not going to be a problem is it?
Marcus: On the contrary, creatures with souls have something to lose.
Spike: Souls, fingers, toes -- let's get chopping shall we? I want my damn ring.

Cordelia: I don't trust you.
Spike: To coin a popular Sunnydale phrase - 'Duh!'

Doyle: You got a real addiction to the brooding part of life, did anyone ever tell ya that?
Angel: Once or twice.

I Fall To Pieces

Doyle: He likes playing the hero. Walking off into the dark, his long coat flowing behind him in that mysterious and attractive way.
Cordelia: Is this a private moment? Cuz I could live you alone.
Doyle: I'm not saying *I'm* attracted....

Angel: Am I intimidating? I mean, do I put people off?
Cordelia: Well, as vampires go, you're pretty cuddly. Maybe you might want to think about mixing up the black-on-black look.

Kate: Wolfram & Hart, you know the name?
Angel: I've heard it.
Kate: They're the law firm Johnny Cochran is too ethical to join.

Cordelia: What is stalking nowadays, like, the third most popular sport among men?
Angel: Fourth, after luge.
Cordelia: This guy has a lot to lose. What is it about Melissa that's got him going all O.J. here?

Cordelia: Did you steal this book?
Angel: Yeah.
Cordelia: Good.

Angel: He's killing now.
Doyle: Anybody that stands between him and his obsession. (Looks around) Don't *we* stand between him and his obsession?

Cordelia: It's just so unfair. I mean, this poor girl, she hooks up with a *doctor*. That should be a good thing. You should be able to call home and say "Mom, guess what? I met a *doctor*" not "Guess what I met a psycho who's stalking me, and oh, by the way, his hands and feet come off, and he's not even in the circus."

Angel: He's in 12 steel boxes buried in 20 cubic feet of concrete in L.A.'s newest subway stop.
Doyle: That ought to bring in the tourists.

Cordelia: *cough*cough*cough*
Doyle: *ahem*
Angel: Uh, um, it's...
Melissa: What?
Angel: There's, uh, a bill?
Melissa: Bill who?
Angel: A bill... for my services.

Cordelia: We need more of these.
Doyle: We'll have more soon enough.
Cordelia: Well, we need them now. Have a vision.
Doyle: I just can't perform on demand.
Cordelia: We need the clients. Have a vision.
Doyle: That money's corrupted you.
Cordelia: If I hit you in the head, will you have a vision?
Doyle: Get away from me -- you're insane!
Doyle: Let's march down to the bank right now and deposit this beauty.
Angel: You guys go on. I think I'll stay here and not burst into flames.
Doyle: Oh, right, you're pretty much the night deposit guy.

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