GLORY: How do they do it?

DAWN: Do what?

GLORY: People. How do they function? Here. Like this, in the world, with all this bile running through them. Every day, it's ... Whooo... you have no control, they're not even animals they're just these meatbaggy slaves to hormones and pheromones and their, and their... feelings. *Hate* 'em! I mean really, is this what the poets go on about? This? Call me crazy, but as hard core drugs go, human emotion's just useless. People are puppets, everyone getting jerked around by what they're feeling - am I wrong? Really, I want to know. Gonna bleed you either way...

DAWN: It depends on the person.

GLORY: So, you're saying some people like this?

DAWN: Some.

GLORY: Funny, 'cause I look around at this world you're so eager to be a part of, and all I see's six billion lunatics looking for the fastest ride out. Who's not crazy? Look around - everyone's drinkin', smokin', shootin' up, shootin' each other or just plain screwing their brains out because they don't want 'em anymore. I'm crazy? Honey, I'm the original one-eyed chicklet in the kingdom of the blind 'cause at least I admit the world makes me nuts. Name one person who can take it here. That's all I'm asking - Name one.

DAWN: Buffy.