Crowley: Angel! This is the Supreme Archangel of all Heaven, your former boss who tried very hard to cast you into hellfire and destroy you. He's not our friend.
Aziraphale: I don't think he really has any friends.
Aziraphale: Yes, exactly.
Crowley: What does your exactly mean, exactly? I feel like your exactly and my exactly are different exactlies.
Aziraphale: He doesn't have any friends so he needs us.
Crowley: What I need is for him is to be nowhere near me and the precious peaceful fragile existence that I have carved out for myself here.
Aziraphale: I thought we carved it out for ourselves.
Crowley: So did I!
Aziraphale: You can't leave, Crowley. There isn't anywhere to go.
Crowley: It's a big universe. Even if this all ends up in a puddle of burning goo, we can go off together.
Aziraphale: Go off together? Listen to yourself.
Crowley: How long have we been friends? Six thousand years!
Aziraphale: Friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don't even like you.
Crowley: You do.