Rebecca: Oh, isn't Eddie sweet? Oh, why can't more men send flowers?
Sam: I didn't know Mormons couldn't send flowers.
Rebecca: I said more men, not Mormons.
Sam: I know they can't dance.
Norm: No, Sammy, that's the, that's the Amish.
Sam: W-Why can't Mormons send flowers?
Rebecca: They can.
Sam: Then what are you talking about?
Rebecca: I just wish someone would send me some damn roses.
Sam: Why does it have to be a Mormon?
Rebecca: Oh, come on! [storms off]
Sam: With some people, you just can't discuss religion.

Norm: Yeah, anniversaries can be just great. I'll never forget my first anniversary with Vera. Yeah, we, uh... Oh, my God, I did forget it. Anybody know where I can get a 17-year-old box of candy?

Norm: [enters] Evening, everybody.
All: Norm!
Woody: What's going on, Mr. Peterson?
Norm: A flashing sign in my gut that says "Insert beer here."

Woody: Wait, there's something written on this five.
Cliff: Oh, that'd be mine. Here, let me give you a clean one. I'll take that back.
Woody: I don't mind.
Cliff: No, it's all right. You'll get ink all over your fingers, and Let's see what it says.
Woody: Uh, "Happy 30th birthday, Cliffie-bits. Sorry I didn't have time to shop. Love, Ma."
Sam: You've been carrying around a gift from your mother for ten years?
Norm: No, no, Sammy. The post office just delivered it yesterday.
Cliff: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, very funny. You're just jealous 'cause I got a ma who sends me five bucks on my birthday and you don't.
Norm: What are you talking about? Your ma sends me money all the time, Cliff. I got one right here, actually. "Dearest Norm, thanks for hanging out with my dorky son. You're a saint. Love Ma Clavin." Oh. "P.S. I'm writing this in the nude."
Cliff: My ma didn't write that! My ma's never been nude in her life!

Norm: You know, seeing a wife stand up for her husband like that makes me realize what I have at home. I guess that's kind of why I'm here.

Sam: I'm sorry, Woody, but you're wrong. Rebecca won.
Woody: What?
Rebecca: Well, I hope you learn from my example. I'm going to show you how a really gracious winner behaves. Read 'em and weep, farm boy! Whoo!
Detective McGuiness: Excuse me, miss?
Rebecca: Yes, sir?
Detective McGuiness: I'm Detective McGuiness, Boston Police Department. I'm off duty here, but, uh, for your sake, I really hope there isn't any gambling going on here.
Rebecca: Gambling? No, sir. I earned this money. I'm a prostitute. That isn't better, is it? Um, no, this is just a little joke. We play a little game here, but we never play for keepsies. See, I take the money in, and I give the money back like this. [whispers] Give this back to me later.

Frasier: Anyway, Lilith and I have been talking, and we have decided that we would like you to decorate our unborn child's room.
Norm: All right! Sure, I can do that. I just did a nursery for my sister-in-law. I went with Gummy Bears rampant in a field of Smurfs.
Lilith: Oh, no, no, no. We'd like to stay away from that cutesie-ootsie drivel that retards the child's creative and intellectual development.
Norm: All right, uh, do we know if it's gonna be a boy or a girl?
Frasier: We are not going to cram sexual identity down our baby's throat. So, naturally, the room should be, oh, sexually neutral.
Norm: Good. Fine, I can do that. When I'm finished, your kid won't have a clue what sex it is.

Lilith: Frasier, my fawn, I deserve a treat. Today my belly button turned from an innie to an outie.
Frasier: Well, this is news.
Lilith: Uh, Norm? We have a few things we'd like to ask you about.
Norm: Oh, great. Must be pretty important if you're willing to buy me a free drink.
Lilith: Oh, of course we will. A drink for Norm? What do you drink? [laughter] What's so funny?
Frasier: It's just that everyone knows Norm always drinks beer, dearest.
Lilith: Ah. That is hysterical.

Rebecca: This isn't gambling, is it?
Sam: Gambling?
Rebecca: Sam, we have had this talk before. I can get closed down.
Sam: This? Oh, no, no. Thanks. This is not gambling, this is, uh well, this is a game. Uh, haven't you ever heard of, uh, Championship Tic-tac-toe? It's a game. Uh, who's next here?
Norm: Me. Me.
Sam: All righty.
Norm: It's my turn. And I will take this square here. And, uh... Oh, by the way, Sam, here's that five bucks I owe you.
Cliff: Ah, well, Normie, you, uh, you fell right into my trap there, buddy. Here you go. Oh, Sammy, by the way, this, uh, slipped out of your wallet a couple of weeks ago.
Rebecca: Oh! How stupid do you think I am? I know exactly what's going on here.
Sam: Come on, what's the big deal? It's just a friendly little game of wagering. It's a simple $500 pot.
Rebecca: I can't believe you people. Do you really think you're gonna get something for nothing? Do you know how long it takes me to earn $500? Give me three squares.

Marge: Say, aren't you Sam Malone?
Sam: Guilty as charged.
Marge: Small world. Marge Thornhill here. Don't you remember me?
Sam: Ah, boy, you know, I can't quite place the face. Where'd we meet?
Marge: Well, we didn't actually meet, but I know you'll remember me. I went to every home game you ever played.
Sam: Uh... Marge, there are a lot of people up in the stands there.
Marge: Sure, but you got to remember me. I always sat right behind first base, five rows up, remember? I used to get there, early so I could watch you warm up in the bullpen.
Sam: I'm sorry. I know, you couldn't forget this. [shouts] Hey, Malone! You pitch like my sister! Why don't you go home and make a dress!
Sam: Was that you?
Marge: Yeah.
Sam: Well, how have you been? Guys, I want you to... Do the one where you say I couldn't get the ball across the plate if I drove it there in my car.
Marge: No, no, that was then, and this is now. By the way, I'm really sorry for all those shots I gave you over the years. No hard feelings?
Sam: No, of course not. It's all part of the game.
Marge: You're a real sport, Malone. [drinks] You call this a martini?! What'd you use for vermouth, turpentine?!
Sam: The great ones never lose it.