Angel Quote
Illyria: You break so easily. Why do you bother getting back up?
Spike: Right. We need to set some ground rules. First off... no more punching me in the face. Secondly, when I punch you in the face, you tell me how you feel so I can write that down on my clipboard. Third... no touching my clipboard. Fourth...
Illyria: I enjoy hurting you.
Spike: Well, we're gonna have to fix that, 'cause...
[Illyria kicks Spike in the face. Spike punches her. Illyria punches him across the room]
Wesley: How goes it?
Illyria: I've been hitting the half-breed. He makes noise.
Spike: We're off to a bit of a rough start, but don't worry. I'll break her.
Wesley: She's not a horse, Spike. You know, this room is equipped with automated training devices. You don't have to test her by just... allowing her to pummel you.
Spike: We're working on the basics. But don't worry—I'm writing it all down.
Wesley: Ok. Fine.
Illyria: You reek of frustration. Curls off of you like smoke.
Spike: Actually, love, we call that scotch. 12-year Lagavulin, if I'm not mistaken. Good choice.
Wesley: It's nothing. I'm just, uh... I had a... slight disagreement with Angel.
Spike: Oh, old broody-pants got you wound up, eh? Keep in mind, he can't get laid without maybe going crazy. Makes it funny.
Illyria: In my time, a leader would punish your insolence with death.
Wesley: We're not being insolent, Illyria.
Spike: I am.
Spike: Right. We need to set some ground rules. First off... no more punching me in the face. Secondly, when I punch you in the face, you tell me how you feel so I can write that down on my clipboard. Third... no touching my clipboard. Fourth...
Illyria: I enjoy hurting you.
Spike: Well, we're gonna have to fix that, 'cause...
[Illyria kicks Spike in the face. Spike punches her. Illyria punches him across the room]
Wesley: How goes it?
Illyria: I've been hitting the half-breed. He makes noise.
Spike: We're off to a bit of a rough start, but don't worry. I'll break her.
Wesley: She's not a horse, Spike. You know, this room is equipped with automated training devices. You don't have to test her by just... allowing her to pummel you.
Spike: We're working on the basics. But don't worry—I'm writing it all down.
Wesley: Ok. Fine.
Illyria: You reek of frustration. Curls off of you like smoke.
Spike: Actually, love, we call that scotch. 12-year Lagavulin, if I'm not mistaken. Good choice.
Wesley: It's nothing. I'm just, uh... I had a... slight disagreement with Angel.
Spike: Oh, old broody-pants got you wound up, eh? Keep in mind, he can't get laid without maybe going crazy. Makes it funny.
Illyria: In my time, a leader would punish your insolence with death.
Wesley: We're not being insolent, Illyria.
Spike: I am.
TV Show: Angel
