Sam: Damn it, now, why is Cliff having his personal mail sent to my bar?
Frasier: Well, when you've been harassed by as many agents of the government as Cliff has, you naturally develop a reluctance to give them your own return address.
Norm: Ah, Cliffie got a letter from The Tonight Show in California.
Paul: Is he still trying to sell jokes to Johnny Carson? When's that poor guy gonna give up.
Woody: He is. I hear he's leaving the show at the end of May.

Norm: You know, all we have to do is just white-out the word "not" and it looks like, "we will be using your submission."
Sam: You're pretty good with that white-out stuff.
Norm: Sammy, I used to be an accountant. Many is the time this stuff kept me out of Leavenworth.

Sam: You've got to do something, man. This has gone far enough.
Norm: I can't, Sammy. I'm no good at giving bad news.
Sam: Oh, what are you talking about? You told Vera about losing all those jobs, right?
Norm: I'm gonna get to that, when the time is right.

Woody: Hey, do you have any idea how a satellite dish works?
Sam: You mean you don't?
Woody: Well, to be honest, no.
Sam: Well, you've got a satellite up there.
Woody: How far up there?
Sam: Oh, about 72 million miles, give or take a few light years. And it's got a gizmo up there so when you send your TV stuff up there it shoots it right back down here to this baby.
Woody: Boy, you sure know a lot about the world, Sam.
Sam: Oh, Woody, I'm an avid reader.
Woody: You know, when you look up there at all those stars and all those galaxies you realize just how big this satellite dish really is.

Cliff: Boy, oh, boy. This is something, isn't it, Ma? Who would have believed it? There it is, the couch, the desk and the curtains. Huh? Huh?
Norm: Listen, Cliff, um, before Johnny starts his monologue, there's something I really want to tell you.
Cliff: Oh, suddenly it's Johnny, huh, Norm? I mean, I work with the man and I don't even get to call him Johnny.
Norm: Anyway, before he starts the monologue I'd like to tell you something, okay?
Cliff: [to a woman sitting next to him] Hey, uh, Cliff Clavin. I'm from Boston. l, uh, wrote tonight's monologue.
Woman: Really? Then you know Johnny?
Cliff: Well, does anybody really know Johnny?

Sam: And Rebecca. Well, we wanted to have a baby together, but that's no reason to get serious about anyone. You know, I used to think I had it made. You know, I- I got my freedom, my bar, goes without saying I'm a love machine, but recently, you know, when I've been alone, I kind of feel lonely.
Woody: Well, Sam, uh, you know, Kelly and I are probably going to have a big, beautiful house someday with, uh, you know, a garden and swimming pool and lots of servants, and when you get too old to take care of yourself, you can come live with us.
Sam: Aw, that's sweet, man, but I think I'll... [chuckling] I think I'll be able to manage. ... Would I get my own room?

Cliff: Oh, yeah, there'll be a lawsuit, that's for sure. In a year, this is going to be the Clavin Broadcasting Company.
Security Guard: Yep, his name is in the computer. And here's a flash... he's a postal worker.
Cliff: I can take your torture. I'm not scared of you guys. [applause over television] My poor mother's out there. She had to watch her only son being dragged off. You've probably broken that old woman's spirit.
Esther Clavin: [on TV] Johnny, I want to give you a little advice. When you retire, get dressed every morning. You don't want to sit around all day in your pajamas. You lose some dignity.
Johnny Carson: [on TV] Ah, thank you, Mrs. Clavin.
Esther Clavin: [on TV] Oh, please, call me Esther.
Cliff: [whispers] Ma's with Johnny.

Norm: [enters] Afternoon, everybody.
All: Norm!
Woody: Hey, Mr. P. How's life in the big city?
Norm: Hey, what'd I tell you about those fat jokes?
Cliff: Uh, what's in the box there, Norm?
Norm: Only my brand-new Turbo Flex Airmasters with the custom pump fit and the night reflector racing stripe.
Woody: Ah, whoa!
Sam: Ooh, look at that! Major shoe.
Norm: And check out the reflector, huh?
Paul: Wow, shines like the Northern Lights.
Norm: Yep. Get this, they utilize a patented ergonomic lever propulsion design. Uses your body's own Achilles tendon as a fulcrum.
Woody: I read in Runner's World that they can improve your vertical leap by ten percent.
Norm: Try 12%, babe.
Sam: Ooh.
Cliff: Ah, that's more than a shoe there, Normie, that's a god.
Norm: And now, if you gentlemen will just stand back for a second I'm gonna try these puppies out. [sits down on his stool] And we're off! [drinks beer]

Norm: Okay, Paulie, at 7:00 we go over to Gary's, right?
Sam: Oh, wait a minute, wait a minute, you're going over to Gary's bar?
Norm: Well, Sammy, big heavyweight fight tonight. He's got a satellite dish, you don't.
Sam: You're deserting me for that snake? You're gonna give money to the one guy I hate more than anyone else in the whole world?
Norm: 'Course not, Sammy. I'm gonna run a tab.

Paul: Sammy, we wouldn't go anywhere if you had a satellite dish.
Norm: Mm-hmm.
Sam: All right, all right, if it means that much to you, I will look into it, all right?
Lilith: l, for one, am filled with a sense of foreboding when I contemplate the future of a culture whose primary source of recreation is watching more and more mindless television. Don't you agree, Frasier?
Frasier: Now, why is Gilligan magnetized?
Lilith: Because he was struck by lightning. Every time this episode airs, you ask that question.