SPIKE: What do you know? It's your fault, the both of you! She belongs with me. I'm nothing without her.
BUFFY: That one I'm gonna back up. It's just pathetic. You're not even a loser anymore. You're a shell of a loser.
SPIKE: Yeah, and you're one to talk.
BUFFY: Meaning what?
SPIKE: Last time I looked in on you, you two were fighting to the death. Now you're back to making googly eyes at each other like nothing happened. Makes me want to heave.
BUFFY: Excuse me! There's no eye googling here.
SPIKE: Oh, sure, you're just friends.
ANGEL: That's right.
SPIKE: You're not friends. You'll never be friends. You'll be in love till it kills you both. You'll fight, you'll shag, you'll hate each other till it makes you quiver, but you'll never be friends. Real love isn't brains, children, it's blood, it's blood screaming inside you to work its will. I may be love's bitch, but at least I'm man enough to admit it.