Sam: Wait a minute. Now, you're upset about my not thinking about our relationship. Am I right?
Diane: Yes, sir.
Sam: Well, I will start thinking about our relationship. Maybe we should take time off. Yeah, not see each other for a while. That way- That way, I'll have one thing on my mind.
Diane: It's one more than you usually have.

Diane: Woody, it's none of my business, but aren't you and Beth worried that you might put back on some of the weight you worked so hard to take off?
Woody: No, we're very careful. We always stop eating before we get lightheaded. [Diane takes the ice cream cone away from Woody] Oh, who am I kidding? It's happening all over again. I swore after I took that 100 pounds off that I'd never tub out again and now I'm gonna have to send home for my fat clothes. I don't know what comes over us when we get together.
Sam: You know, Woody, I just thought of something. Now I have some old drinking buddies that I can't even be around without wanting a drink. Automatic thing. I think that maybe Beth is... Well, she's like your old eating buddy.
Diane: Very good, Sam.
Sam: Well, thank you.
Diane: And just when we were about to hang a "for rent" sign on Sam's forehead.

Diane: I'm sorry I'm late, but wait till you hear what I've been doing. This afternoon, I spent five entire hours in a sensory deprivation tank.
Carla: Your room?
Diane: I'm telling you, it was incredible. Never have I felt more aware and sensitive to what's going on around me.
Man: Excuse me.
Diane: Oh, excuse me. You see, the whole idea is that there's a total lack of sensory input. [looks around] What the hell's going on here?
Cliff: It's a book promotion party.
Diane: How can that be in a place where no one can read?

Diane: OK. I'll pay. I'll pay the $200. Give me my purse. I still think it's exorbitant for a prizefight.
Phil: It's Marvin Hagler. It's the prizefight of the year.
Diane: I assume that a check will do.
Phil: Anything. Make it out to Phil Keppler, Medical Corporation.
Diane: Ah, I thought I recognized that natural compassion, Doctor.
Phil: He's a lucky man. By the way, I could remove that little thing in my office in about 30 minutes.

Eddie: Look, Sam, I don't know if it's necessary for you to go to all this trouble.
Sam: Why are you going to call the bet off?
Diane: No, I think he has an arrangement in mind.
Eddie: That's right. Maybe you and I can work out some kind of settlement.
Diane: That's what you've been looking for all along, haven't you, Eddie?
Eddie: Quiet, blondie!
Carla: Yeah.
Eddie: This is between us men of the world.

Sam: See, Carla is seeing a therapist. She's trying to work things out. She wants to be the kind of waitress that you'd enjoy being waited on by.
Diane: You just ended that sentence with two prepositions.
Sam: Don't you have customers to deal with?
Diane: That ended with a preposition, too.
Sam: Don't you have customers to deal with, mullet-head?

Diane: Sam, this could be a crucial moment in your life. It is vitally important that you handle your emotions properly. The worst thing that anyone in a situation like this could do right now is to repress his feelings.
Sam: Diane, get out, please.
Diane: You need to lash out. To release yourself. Scream.
Sam: Get out!
Diane: Wonderful! All right, now, we need now to move away from brute, gut release of emotions into the more cerebral. Tell me in one sentence what you perceive to be your problem right now.
Sam: You won't leave.

Diane: Let's come back to that. Other people have been through what you're feeling. Even, in a slightly different way, myself. Would you, uh... Would you like me to share an experience from my life when I was horribly defeated and humiliated?
Sam: Diane, I don't wanna hear a lead in a high school play story.
Diane: Oh, it's not a lead in the high school play story.
Sam: Well, I don't wanna hear an "l didn't get asked out to the junior prom" story.
Diane: It's not an "l didn't get asked out to the junior prom" story.
Sam: Well, I sure as hell don't wanna hear an "l didn't get elected cheerleader" story.
Diane: OK, if you're just gonna make a big joke about it...
Sam: I hit it, didn't l?
Diane: Sam, I was terrific!

Sam: Boy, you really are bombed. I better get you some coffee here
Diane: I am bombed. But I have been doing some very clear thinking tonight about us. I have decided that if it isn't worth examining what we have, maybe we don't have anything.
Sam: Oh, come on. Wait a minute here. You're not thinking about ending it?
Diane: I'll have you know that when I was in high school, I was voted the girl most likely to marry into old money.

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.