Diane: Sam, please. As you know, I'm one who prides herself on her attraction to the inner man, but every once in awhile, someone comes along that makes you go, "zowie."
Sam: Oh, stop it, will ya? You're just trying to make me jealous.
Diane: Your being jealous was the farthest thing from my mind although, now that you bring it up, any sane man would be jealous of Lance Apollonaire.
Sam: Oh, come on. If you're gonna make a guy up, at least give him a name that doesn't sound like a bad aftershave.
Diane: I knew it was a mistake to talk to you. I'll just have to deal with this on my own. Rest assured, though, that the last thing I need is to become that young man's "Mrs. Robinson."
Woody: Wouldn't that be Mrs. Apollonaire?
Diane: No, Woody. Mrs. Robinson was a... Yes, it would.