Carla: What are you talking about? This is St. Paddy's Day. It's one of the busiest nights of the year. It's when Gary wheels out the big guns.
Sam: He can't do anything worse to us than he did last year. Remember that? The place was packed and Gary and his goons filled our stairwell with potatoes.
Woody: Yeah, and just my luck I was sitting on the bottom step tying my shoe at the time. Lucky for me you guys were able to dig me out. I'd hate to be the second member of my family buried alive by potatoes.

Norm: Guys, guys, we're going nuts here. I tell you, man, it's just sheer luck that no one was hurt in this situation, other than Rebecca.
Cliff: Wait, wait, wait, wait. This might be part of Gary's master plan.
Norm: What?
Cliff: Keep us on the edge, off balance.
Woody: Yeah. Mr. Clavin's right. I think Gary's probably playing with us, like a rat with a mouse.
Sam: That's a cat and mouse, Woody. Cat and mouse.
Woody: Sam, a cat and a mouse don't play together. They're mortal enemies. They don't even know the same games. Think before you speak, Sam.

Norm: [enters] Morning, everyone.
All: Norm!
Sam: What are you up to, Norm?
Norm: My ideal weight if I were 11 feet tall.

Sam: So you don't have any relatives or friends you can ask to watch the baby?
Frasier: Oh, I'd gladly ask my parents. Of course, they're dead. Well, as for friends, l... [looks around the bar] well...
Sam: Sorry. Stupid question.
Lilith: Frasier, good news. I finally found a woman with whom we can leave our baby for one night.
Frasier: Oh, great. Tell me about her.
Lilith: Well, she's 79 years old, she can't see her hands without her glasses, but she assures me she can smell smoke.
Frasier: Lilith, this is wonderful. At last we'll have a night alone together.
Lilith: Yes, it's just what we need. Our relationship is at a point where the rekindling of romance is both appropriate and welcome, to say nothing of timely.
Frasier: Stop, Lilith. You're getting me hot. [they walk out together]

Norm: Hey, Cliffie. Your beer taste a little flat today?
Cliff: No.
Norm: I don't know. Seems like it's off by maybe a hop or two.
Cliff: Well, it probably has something to do with that new pasteurization process. You know, they put it in big sterilized vats... Ah, who gives a hoot?
Frasier: What, no long-winded explanation? Cliff just isn't himself today.
Woody: Well, it's not just Mr. Clavin. I'm feeling a little strange, too. In fact, this whole place feels weird.
Frasier: Well, you know, Woody, the Japanese believe that every house has its own energy, what they call its "wah". Now, Eastern culture submits that if this "wah" is somehow in disorder, everyone that enters therein will feel a sense of disconnection.
Woody: Mr. Clavin, I know why you're not yourself. Dr. Crane is yourself.

Frasier: Ah, St. Paddy's Day, the day St. Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland. Boy, if that isn't the biggest Freudian dream of all time.

Lilith: Hello, duckling.
Frasier: Sugar pants. I've been anxiously awaiting our appointed rendezvous.
Woody: Hey, Dr. Crane, Mrs. Dr. Crane. So you guys are here on your night off, huh?
Lilith: You have a marvelous grasp of the obvious.
Woody: Well, that's what comes from working with your hands. So what are you guys going to do?
Frasier: Well, we plan to recreate our very first liaison. If memory serves, we began with a lovely meal at Melville's and then an after-dinner drink here, and then we adjourned to Lilith's tastefully decorated condominium, where we engaged in an evening of lovemaking, which I might say was rather... Meaningful, not to mention sweet and sweaty.
Lilith: Well, I'm not hungry, you've had your drink. I say we jump right to the final stop on our itinerary.
Frasier: Do you think the people who live in that condominium now would mind?
Lilith: I don't see why. We're an attractive couple.

Norm: So, we have any retaliation from the old Garmeister?
Sam: No, no, no, but that's because we outsmarted them once again. We had a man inside the whole time.
Norm: Hey, hey.
Woody: Yep. I stood exactly where Tecumseh stands all night long. It's given me a new appreciation for Tecumseh and everything he does for us.
Carla: You stood there all night long? What a stupid thing to do.
Woody: Oh, yeah? I stand there for one night and you think that's stupid? He stands there for years and you rub him for luck. Who's the stupid one, Carla?

Norm: Well, one thing is clear. He is going to retaliate, OK? In fact, he may have already put some deadly plan in action. This beer you just poured me, Sam, could be filled with toxins.
Alan: So what do we do?
Norm: We take our chances. [drinks]

Carla: 5 more Irish coffees, Woody.
Woody: Oh, gosh, I wish Sam would hurry back from Gary's. I'm at my wits' end here.
Carla: How can you tell?