Woody: Mr. Clavin, how can you be delivering mail on the coldest day in Boston's history except for one?
Cliff: Well, a very good question there, young Woodman. It seems that like any member of your camel family, we Clavins have an extra... No, wait. That's how I can go without water for a week.

Norm: [enters] Afternoon, everybody.
All: Norm!
Woody: Hey, Mr. Peterson, Jack Frost nipping at your nose?
Norm: Yeah. Now let's get Joe Beer nipping at my liver, huh?

Norm: Sammy, I'm trying to. I can't shake the girl. I mean, I come in Cheers, she's here. I go upstairs to plug the parking meter, she's there. I come back in Cheers, she's here. Sammy, it's like somehow she's figured out my whole routine.
Doris: [enters] Oh, Mr. Peterson. I knew I'd find you here when you weren't at the parking meter. Could I warm up your seat for you?
Norm: It's OK, Doris. It's never cold.

Norm: Doris, we have to get something straight here, OK?
Doris: Yes, Mr. Peterson?
Norm: I am not interested in you, OK? I'm not interested in any woman except for my wife, and I'm not even interested in her.
Doris: She's a very lucky woman.

Sam: Want another one, Norm?
Norm: No, thanks, Sammy. I'm going home. I'm not feeling too great, you know? I just can't shake the sight of Doris staring at me and undressing me with her eyes.
Carla: Now I want to go home.
Norm: Anyway, see you in the morning, I guess.
Sam: Yeah, I may be a little late.
Norm: That's OK. I had a key made.

Cliff: You know, a postal carrier is pretty much the Indiana Jones of your civil servants. Just as Indy faces off a pit of rattlesnakes or a sewer full of rats, I have to, daily, mind you, trade wits with the Flannigans' dog.
Doris: Oh, Cliff, when you get out of the service, could we go out together?
Cliff: Well, uh, you know, Doris, there's actually no rule against mailmen dating women. It just sort of turns out that way.

Norm: Well, I think I handled that one rather well, don't you, Wood? Could I have a celebratory beer, please?
Frasier: Handled it, my foot!
Norm: What?
Frasier: You mean to tell me you're going to pay that girl week after week just to stop following you and watching your every move, interrupting your beer drinking?
Norm: Come on, Fras, this is nothing. I bought Vera a house.

Cliff: All right, you want to talk American heroes? I'll give you numero uno, the only guy who should be on the list, Mr. J. Edgar Hoover.
Norm: What?
Frasier: J. Edgar Hoover was a paranoid, right-wing, megalomaniac who used his position to intimidate presidents and congressmen and smear anybody who disagreed with him.
Cliff: Eh, can't poke any holes in that guy, can you?

Norm: Sammy, excuse me, do you know how to spell courteous?
Sam: Yeah, Norm. Just as it sounds. Then check it with Frasier.
Norm: I've got to write this letter of recommendation for Doris. Remember my secretary Doris?
Sam: Oh, yeah. What, did she quit?
Norm: No, I have to let her go. Business hasn't been going too good since I decided to stop working.

Rebecca: Oh, it's gorgeous. Isn't it gorgeous, everyone?
Frasier: You know, I could have had a desk like this once. A beautiful antique, real prestige piece. Something to mirror and dignify my status. But I decided that that sort of display was too ostentatious, so I put the money into pinstriping my Beamer. Looks pretty sporty, too.