C: Something the matter?
A: I, um, I think it's gone bad. It's starting to coagulate.
C: Huh? No. That's cinnamon. What? I can't try something?

BM: Guy gives me the heebie jeebies. Say, how about instead of this bill, I deliver an eviction notice?
HM: We can not evict residents on the grounds of the heebie jeebies. Now, if we did, we'd have to shut down.

J: My boyfriend? He's kind of the jealous type.
A: Maybe you shouldn't go wandering into other men's rooms.

A: He's goin' down.

C: You did notice that Angel neglected to tell us the, for instance, point of all this?
W: Ah. Well, I mean, clearly, he has us compiling incidents, arranging data, organizing information in such a way that. . . yes, I did notice that -- the no point thing.

W: Frankly, I haven't the slightest idea what to do with all this. We could make a collage. Or a mobile!

W: Well, now we know one thing for certain.
C: Yup! It's not that vampires don't photograph. It's just that they don't photograph well!

HM: This is the third one in as many months. Why can't they ever do it in their own homes, for god's sakes?
BM: I should've seen it comin'. Guy did seem pretty depressed.
HM: Oh really? How could you tell?
BM: Kinda cheap though. The deathwishers usually tip better, like they know they're not gonna take it with them anyway.

Rock Hudson Guy: Are all screenwriters this crass?
Blacklisted Writer: Are all actors this naive?

J: The entire universe explodes!
A: Sounds exciting.
J: Well, it's air conditioned.

J: Can you imagine that wallpaper being the last thing you see before you go?
A: Maybe it was the wallpaper that drove him to it.

C: It's kinda like a puzzle -- the Who Died Horribly Because Angel Screwed Up 50 Years Ago Game?

A: It's just blood, Judy. It's all just blood.

J: I'm not one thing or the other. I am nothing!
A: I know what that's like.

W: There's a pattern here. Some force was residing at the Hyperion over the last decades affecting staff and residents. I just fear there's no real way to --
C: A Thesuliac. Paranoia demon -- whispers to its victims, feeds on their innate insecurities.
W: [Gapes]
C: [holds out phone] Angel wants to talk to you.

Beatnik Store Guy: [watching tv] They keep calling her a zany redhead. Could be a brunette for all I can tell. Guess I'll just have to take their word for it.

A: It's been a long time since I've opened a vein, but I'll do it you pull any more of that Van Helsing Jr. crap with me. Are we clear?

HM: What took you so long?
BM: He wouldn't fit.
HM: What? What'd you do with him?
BM: He's in there. I just had to sorta, you know, what do you call it, make him fit. No chance I can get in trouble for that, is there?

Blacklisted Writer: Maybe he saw you with one of your little trysts. Maybe he threatened to tell the studio. Expose, perhaps, your little peccadilloes to the press.
Rock Hudson Guy: Don't you dare use alliteration with me, you hack!

Beatnik Store Guy: So, you were, what, about my age when you were made?
A: I don't know. How old are you?
BSG: Just north of 30.
A: [Indignant] No!

BSG: Vampire wanting to slay a demon in order to help some grubby humans? I just don't get it.
A: To be honest, I'm not sure I do either.

W: Orb of Ramgarin!
G: "Orb of Ramgarin, please," makes it happen.

W: Please. And do be careful. Ancient conjuring orbs are notoriously fragile.
G: [Tosses Orb at Wes]
W: ANGEL!
A: Guys, don't listen to it, alright? Whatever it's whispering to you, just ignore it.
C: They were like this all the way over here in the car.
A: Oh.

TD: Oh, you got your feelings hurt didn't you? See, now, what happens when you stick your neck out for 'em? They throw rope around it!

TD: There's an entire hotel here just full of tortured souls who could really use your help. Whaddya say?
A: Take 'em all.

A: Watch his tentacles.
C: Excuse me?!
W: Tentacles.

TD: I don't remember ordering take out, but I like what you brung me. Not as delectable as the last one perhaps, but full of tasty paranoia just the same. Especially that one.
W: What did he mean by that?

W: What did it mean "especially that one"?!

J: I'm so sorry I killed you. Can you forgive me?
A: Of course.

W: I've been accused of a great many things in my time, but paranoid has never been one of them. Unless people have been saying it behind my back.

C: Are we finished?
A: Think so.
C: Good. Because I, for one, will be glad to see the last of this place. Gives me the heebie jeebies.
G: No lie. Plus, it's kinda got an odor to it, you notice that?
C: Seventy years of violence, mayhem, and paranoia? Bad vibes.
A: We're moving in.
C: I mean, a few throw pillows -- what's not to love?

W: Angel. You don't find me especially paranoid, do you?
A: Not especially.
W: Oh, thank god. I was worried.

Grr. . . argh!