Diane: You turned a woman down?
Sam: Yeah. Now, here I am all primed for a wonderful afternoon...
Diane: You can't admit the truth, can you?
Sam: What? What is the truth?
Diane: Decency finally won out. You did the right thing. You were noble.
Sam: No, no. I was bored.
Diane: Unconsciously, you were sensitive to her suffering and you didn't want to take advantage of that.
Sam: Think so?
Diane: Yes. Sam Malone, you're a better man than you're willing to admit.
Sam: Maybe you're right. Maybe I am kinda turning into a sensitive guy. Maybe I'll never look at a woman again and see her as a mere sex object. [looks at Diane] No, scratch that thought.

Diane: Rebecca. You are a very desirable woman. He does happen to be going with somebody, that's all. Me.
Both: You?
Diane: We can tell it now. Yes. Today we had a tiff right before you came in. And Sam used you to make me jealous and then, when push came to shove, he finally remembered what a wonderful thing we have together. Isn't that right, sweetheart?
Sam: Oh, yeah. Sure. You bet ya.
Diane: Yes, Sam and I are deeply and passionately in love.
Rebecca: I can't believe it. You two? It's incredible. I'd never have put you two together.
Diane: Well, I know. It does test the limits of human logic. But, like you, I was growing bored with bright, articulate men.
Sam: You were, huh?
Diane: Sure. I was looking for meat and potatoes. Sam here, the old side of beef, really fit the bill.

Sam: You know, I was getting kinda bored with beautiful, sexy, sensuous women. I decided to go for pleasant. [chuckles]
Diane: Yes, believe it or not, I actually prefer a man who's thick and ordinary.
Sam: You know, I guess I'm kind of old-fashioned. I like a woman who does what her man tells her. Oh, hey, lookee there, my shoe's undone. Will you get that for me, honey?
Diane: What, darling?
Sam: Would you tie my shoesy-woosy for me? She loves doing these little things for me. That's a little tight there, honey.
Diane: How's that, sweetheart?
Sam: Wow, that's much better. Thank you.

Diane: Rebecca, there's something wrong.
Rebecca: Oh, you could always see through my facade of gaiety. Elliot and I have parted.
Diane: Oh, Rebecca, no. You and Elliot? Oh, you were together for ever.
Rebecca: I know. It all began when Elliot got his doctorate in Ichthyology. His eye began to wander. And the first thing I knew, he'd taken up with a student on a squid expedition.
Diane: A doctorate changes a man. But there'll be others, right? In the meantime, you still have your work.
Rebecca: Oh, you'd think so. I used to find enormous comfort translating Russian poetry.
Diane: I know.
Rebecca: But no more. Even when I went back over my favourite, Karashnikov's Another Christmas of Agony, it failed to soothe me. "Mischa the dog lies dead in the bog, The children cry over the carcass, The mist chokes my heart, Covers the mourners, At least this year we eat."
Diane: Well, if that didn't pick you up, I'm at a virtual loss.

Norm: Oh, one thing, you guys, you don't know me in here, OK?
Sam: Why?
Norm: I don't want him to think I'm a bar fly.
Coach: Good.
Norm: Don't call me Norm, all right?
Coach: Gotcha, Norm.

Diane: Rebecca.
Rebecca: Diane.
Diane: What a wonderful coincidence. I never come into a place like this. I'm doing research for a paper...
Carla: Hey, hey, hey. What the hell's going on here?
Diane: Oh, a serving girl. [winking at Carla] Would you bring us a bottle of wine?
Carla: Only if I can spit in it.

Rebecca: Diane, it's all right. I know that you work here.
Diane: All right, how did you find out?
Rebecca: I called your mother.
Diane: Oh.
Rebecca: She took her head out of the oven long enough to fill me in.

Diane: God, I've missed you.
Rebecca: Oh, I'll never forget those long afternoons in the quad, drinking champagne, eating brioche with strawberry preserves. Reading and talking Schopenhauer.
Diane: Yeah. Well, enough Schope-talk. [both laugh]

Rebecca: What I need is to blot out Elliot's memory.
Diane: That's exactly what you should do.
Rebecca: I'm looking for a man.
Diane: Pardon?
Rebecca: Diane, I've been thinking about this carefully, and I think what I need is something I've never had before. An evening of unbridled bestial pleasure. I want to burn at the stake of passion.
Diane: Rebecca, you're very vulnerable right now. Please, don't do anything foolish.
Rebecca: I've never done anything foolish in my life and it's high time I did. Now, the man I'm looking for should be peasant stock. Tall, dark, strong, hairy arms. But most important, he should be unintellectual. One-word sentences. Do you know anyone like that?
Diane: No! Nuh-uh.

Rebecca: Diane, it's him.
Diane: What?
Rebecca: I want him.
Diane: Who? The gay guy with the war wound?
Rebecca: You can't fool me. He's exactly what I'm looking for. You're not interested in him yourself, are you?
Diane: No, of course not.
Rebecca: Well, then I'm going for him before I lose my nerve.