[Woody enters in a tropical shirt, straw hat, shorts and flip-flops with a ukulele frozen to his hand]
Woody: Hi, guys.
Sam: Woody, what are you doing in that stuff? Man, where's your coat? You must be freezing.
Woody: You're telling me. Deejays made me dress up in all this Hawaiian stuff and take pictures outside the radio station. [pops the ukulele off his hand] Then they locked me out and kept all my clothes. I hate those mean morning shows.

Sam: Let me tell you, nothing more pathetic than a billionaire on the make. You know, when I got a babe in my cross-hairs, I don't waste time sending her jewelry and furniture. The only time you see me move a desk is when I want more room on the floor for her. What do you got?
Carla: No ring in here. Just some paper. "This certificate authenticates that this desk once belonged to George Bernard Shaw. It has become known as the 'ring desk' because of the dark ring clearly visible on the desktop where he set down his tea cup upon completing the fifth act of Man and Superman." I wonder if that's the one where he fought the mole people.
Carla: So this tea cup thing is the ring Colcord was talking about.
Sam: Yeah. Boy, that's really romantic, isn't it? A desk that used to belong to some dork who writes comic books. This Robin, man, he's got a lot to learn about chicks. "This desk has been appraised at $5..." Whoa, look at all those zeroes.
Carla: Wow!
Sam: Maybe, uh, maybe I should tell Rebecca, huh? [saw buzzing] Maybe some other time.

Norm: Come on, Cliff. You don't really care about her. Admit it.
Cliff: Come on, Norm. Of course I care about the girl. I mean, I'm the one who said she was prompt.
Norm: You're a mailman. What the hell do you know about prompt?
Cliff: All right. That's it, Peterson. I'm trained in the art of self-defense. All postal carriers are.
Norm: Ooh, I'm really shaking, Cliff. What are you going to do, speed sort me?

Doris: Hey, are you two fighting over me? Oh, no. I've broken up a wonderful friendship because I was selfishly thinking of nothing but my own burning womanly needs. I hate myself.
Frasier: Now, this has gone on long enough. If I may intercede, you are mistaken. Two men were about to have a fight over you. Now, that should show you that you're worth having. You don't have to settle. You can pick and choose. You can be selective. You can go out with who you want to go out with.
Doris: Who are you, and why are you so damned handsome?
Frasier: You're settling again.
Doris: Oh. Oh, I guess you're right.
Frasier: Now, you see, of course, in case of someone like me, I see how you wouldn't think it was settling...
Doris: Oh, no, you're right. I can do better.
Frasier: Good luck, babe.

Rebecca: Boy, you know, I bet it was murder for Robin to get that desk delivered on a cold day like this.
Woody: Yeah, I bet there was only one day in Boston's history when it would've been harder to get something delivered.
Rebecca: If you pretend like you're interested in my desk, I'll pretend like I'm interest in your weather.
Woody: Deal, Miss Howe. You know, interestingly enough, the coldest day in Boston's history did not start off that way. Like, the barometric pressure in the morning...
Rebecca: I'm sorry, Woody. Wait. I bit off more than I can chew.

Frasier: Let's face it, everybody. In America in the 1990s, there are no heroes anymore.
Sam: [enters with four ski bunnies] Hey, guys, I'd like you to meet my date.
Men: [chant] Oh, Sammy! Sammy! Sammy, Sammy! Sammy, Sammy, Sammy!

Sam: Whew! Boy, is it cold out there!
Woody: Don't even try, Sam. These people don't care.
Sam: Hey, it's the kind of day you want to curl up in front of a roaring fire with a good book. Unfortunately, the one I been working on is around here someplace. Oh, here we go. Let's see, where was l? Tina! Tina. Tina, two stars.
Cliff: Two stars? That's not very good, is it, Sammy?
Sam: You kidding? It was great. That's what she was wearing, two stars.

Norm: Doris, I don't know quite how to put this. You've really been a great secretary, but I just can't afford to keep you around any longer.
Doris: Oh, God, I'm fired. I wish I was dead.
Norm: Doris, really, I'm very sorry. It really hurts me to do this.
Doris: Oh, don't be sorry. The last thing I want to do is make you feel guilty. Working for you has been the high point of my life.
Norm: Doris, all you ever did was sit around my office and sharpen pencils.
Doris: Please, Mr. Peterson, you're going to make me cry.

Doris: Well, this is so embarrassing. So very, very embarrassing. If you'll excuse me, I'll just go quietly.
Norm: Oh, no, Doris, please. Now, you don't have to do that.
Doris: You don't want me to go?
Norm: No, I don't want you to go quietly. I mean, come on, think about it. This is a bar. You can make as much noise as you like, OK?
Hey! Ho! Come on! Hey! Hey there!
Doris: I'll always remember the way you looked when you said that. [exits]
Frasier: Norm, that was a very hard thing to do and an even harder thing to watch.

Norm: Doris, I really hate that it's come to this, but scram, OK?
Doris: If my scramming would make you happy...
Norm: Doris, get a life for Christmas, will you?
Doris: If my getting a life would make you happy...
Norm: Doris, yes, it would. As a matter of fact, it would.
Doris: Before I go, Mr. Peterson, could I sing- Could I sing "Seasons in the Sun" to you?
Norm: Go, Doris.
Doris: [sings] We had joy, we had fun, We had seasons in the sun...
Norm: No, I mean go, Doris! Go on, get out of here. Go! Go on.