Coach: Diane, what you've written here is beautiful, but you know what it could use? A little bit more about T-Bone himself.
Diane: OK. Tell me about him.
Coach: Well, in his playing days, he was a good hitter.
Diane: Uh-huh. His prowess at the plate was legendary.
Coach: He was a fair hitter, Diane. Fair. For the minors.
Diane: He was a capable batsman.
Coach: Well, all those hits he got were a lot of scratch and field hits.
Diane: His best moments were off the field.
Coach: Now, that's the idea. For instance, he always made the guys laugh.
Diane: He was loved for his irrepressible sense of humor.
Coach: He was always making fun of people.
Diane: We admired his sardonic wit.
Coach: I've seen him ride guys till they were reduced to tears.
Diane: He was a hateful and terrible person. Why don't you just stick with what I had?
Coach: Oh, you're right, honey. I'd better go practice.

Coach: I just wish Angela had told me about it. A man and a woman shouldn't keep secrets from each other. No matter what it's about, Sam.
Diane: I don't think I agree with you, Coach.
Sam: You don't?
Diane: No, I don't think so. Let's take an outlandish example, like us, for instance. In the totally fantastical, remote, unlikely event that you would ever succumb to a foolish, momentary temptation, I would prefer, hypothetically at least, to remain oblivious.
Sam: You got it.
Diane: What do you mean by that?
Sam: I was just going along with what you said.
Diane: You went along pretty fast.
Sam: Well, when you're right, you're right.
Diane: You said it as though you already had something in mind.
Sam: I don't.
Diane: You'd better not.
Sam: I don't. I swear.
Diane: Tell the truth.
Sam: That is the truth.
Diane: Good. Then I wouldn't want to know.

Sam: Well, I'll be darned. It's a sweater?
Diane: An Icelandic snowflake rag wool sweater. I saw it in a catalog. I just had to get it for you.
Sam: Well, thank you. I love it. It's great.
Diane: Put it on right now.
Sam: Well, you know, I like to live with a piece of clothing for a little while before I actually wear it, Diane.
Diane: Come on, Sam. I know it's unusual, but it looks totally different when it's on.
Sam: One person laughs...
Diane: He will be exhibiting his own insecurity and lack of taste.
Sam: I just hate, hate looking silly.
Diane: Attention, everybody, Sam is about to model his new sweater for us.
Norm: Look, Cliffie, goose bumps.
Cliff: Boy, there was nothing in my horoscope about that this morning.
Diane: Does it fit all right?
Sam: [o.s.] Yeah, it fits OK. Why don't you come in here and take a look.
Diane: No, no, you come out here and show everyone what a fashion plate you are. [to the patrons] Believe me, not so much as a smirk. [Diane laughs as Sam comes out wearing the sweater] Well, I never saw a flounder in a sweater before.

Coach: I'm sorry I'm late, Sam, but old T-Bone wanted to be buried in the family plot and I brought the body back with him.
Norm: How did he die, Coach, some mysterious ailment that turns your flesh to cardboard?
Coach: No, no, no. No, Normie, no. See, the body's at the mortuary. This is just a promotional thing we did when we were down with the Birmingham Barons. Old T-Bone, he saved it all these years, so I snatched it up and brought it back with me to Cheers. Some luck, Sam?
Sam: Words fail me, Coach.
Coach: It could be like having my old buddy back with me here for all time.
Sam: Actually, I think this will be a lot better.
Coach: Sam, that's a wonderful thought.
Sam: I'm going to put this in my office for safekeeping. I'd hate to see it get stolen.

Diane: I just had a wonderful idea.
Carla: Oh. Is there any way we could get you not to tell us?
Diane: Not a prayer.

Sam: Boy, I don't think having a bunch of guys mourning is that good for business.
Carla: They mourn, they drink.
Sam: Call me a sentimental old fool, but I'm for it.

Diane: I can't believe this man was vain. Does this picture do him justice?
Sam: Only a firing squad would do him justice.
Diane: What is your problem with this man?
Sam: I know something about him that nobody else does.
Diane: Like what?
Sam: Just trust me. It's very sleazy.
Diane: Oh, come on. Now, this sounds serious. Tell me what it is.
Sam: I can't do it, Diane. I'm sorry.
Diane: How would you like another sweater?

Carla: Oh, Coach, where do you want to put this for the ceremony?
[Coach punches the cardboard cutout square in the face, knocking it over]
Carla: Oh, in that case, where would you like Diane to stand?

Sam: Coach, I know-
Coach: I hate him, Sam.
Diane: Coach, come on, you have to put this behind you. Angela and T-Bone are in heaven now.
Norm: Let's hope he's not hitting on her up there.
Sam: Hey, hey.

Carla: Now I see what you've been up to all this time, you. You're trying to drive her crazy, so she'll kill herself. [laughs] I love it. Now, if I can be of any help at all.
Sam: I'll keep you in mind.
Carla: Okay.