Carla: Sammy, got three questions. One, who's going to fix the ball return on the pool table?
Sam: Okay, I'll check that today.
Carla: Check. Two, how much vermouth do you want next month?
Sam: Uh, an extra case.
Carla: Check. Three, why, why, why?!
Sam: Oh, come on, don't start with me about the wedding, will you?
Carla: Oh, Sammy. Sam, it actually looks like you're going to go through with this horrible thing. Why do you want to marry this woman?

Diane: Yes! [giggling] I'm going to be a novelist. I'm going to be a novelist.
Sumner: Now, this doesn't guarantee publication. He has other people to convince. And he'll have to see the finished work.
Diane: Actually, I haven't quite finished it. I haven't written for five years.
Sumner: That's about the same amount of time you've been interred in this, uh, tomb of thought.
Diane: Oh, roughly.
Sumner: Well, then it's imperative you get out of here and finish this novel immediately. You can use my cabin in Maine. It's where I go to do most of my profound thinking. You'll love it! Ted Koppel has a little place right down the road.
Diane: I can't. I'm going to marry Sam.
Sumner: Do you realize the implications of the choice you're making?
Diane: There's no choice. A woman can be married and write, too.
Sumner: Oh, I get it. You're going to write the great American novel in between driving the kids to Little League games, changing a litter box and teaching Sam pinochle so you can finally have the Mundanes over to dinner.

Diane: Well, even if I can't do both, I don't care.
Sumner: Of course you don't. Sam's bludgeoned all the spirit out of you and dragged you back down to his level.
Diane: No one was dragged, Sumner. Sam and I walked arm in arm to his level. I think you'd better leave now.
Sumner: Yes, I'll leave. But the time will come when you'll look back on this moment and realize you've made a terrible mistake. I'm glad I won't be around to witness that.
Diane: So am l.
Sumner: Touche. How appropriate that as I take my leave of you, you are holding the eight ball. Good-bye, Diane.
[As Diane throws the eight ball into the pocket and walks out of the back room, Sam emerges from under the pool table with a screwdriver in his hand and the eight ball wedged in his mouth.]

Sam: Hey, wait a minute. You know, this this could work out perfectly. Why don't we why don't we postpone the wedding?
Diane: Postpone it?
Sam: Yeah, absolutely. I mean, you- You could go off and finish your book, and it'd give me a chance to do something I've wanted to do all my life.
Diane: What?
Sam: What do you mean what? You want me to name it?
Diane: That'd be good.
Sam: Well, l, uh, take a trip to the Orient. Yeah, yeah, I always wanted to go to the Orient.
Diane: You've never said anything about a trip to the Orient.
Sam: Well, not in so many words, but I mean, you know how much I like Chinese food. It's...

[fantasy:]
Diane: Tea time, dear.
Sam: I've had a great life. My grandson's a 25-game winner with the Red Sox. Got the prettiest wife in town. And I can still fire off the old booster rockets now and again.
Diane: And don't forget your pinochle's coming along quite well.
Sam: Yes, yes. You know, now that I got the hang of it, I kind of like that game. Who called there a minute ago?
Diane: That was your granddaughter, Samantha. She said to tell her gramps that she has a new boyfriend.
Sam: Uh-oh. What's he like?
Diane: Well, he sounds like a fine young man. She said he has his doctorate in laser beam demolecularization.
Sam: There's only one thing that kept me from going into that myself. I don't have the brains of a turnip.

[fantasy:]
Sam: I'll get it. [doesn't move] Maybe you better do it. I'd rather watch you walk anyway. You know, it's absolutely amazing how you've held onto your figure.
Diane: Well, it's amazing how you've held onto it, too. [opens door] Oh, Clifford.
Cliff: Er, you hit the jackpot there, Diane.
Diane: Oh, thanks so much. Would you like to come in and have a cup of tea?
Cliff: Oh, don't mind if I do.
Diane: Good.
Sam: When are you going to retire, Cliff?
Cliff: "Retire"? [chuckling] Hells bells, Sammy. Being a mailman's still the surest way I know of, uh, meeting the, uh...
Sam: Women.
Cliff: Women.

[fantasy:]
Sam: I'll get it. [doesn't move] No, maybe not.
Diane: Let me. We seem to be very popular today. [opens door]
Norm: Evening, everybody.
All: Norm!
Diane: Norman.
Sam: What's up, Norm?
Norm: Me, about 30 times a night.

[fantasy:]
Diane: Norman, shall I get you a cup so you can join us in some tea?
Norm: No, no, thanks, Diane. I'm just here to pick up Cliffie. We're going to go on over to Woody's bar and have a few beers.
Diane: Well, tell Woody we say hi.
Norm: Mm-hmm, yeah.
Sam: How's he doing with the bar?
Norm: Well, Sammy, he's, uh, turned it into a real family enterprise, you know. He's, uh... He and, uh, his kid are are working behind the bar, and he's got his- his wife and his daughter actually waiting tables. And in the evening, they, uh, apparently take off all their shoes and socks and add up the receipts. [all laugh]

Sam: Come on, let's do it. Let's go get a justice of the peace.
Diane: Better yet, let's wed at Cheers.
Sam: The bar?
Diane: It's ideal. Right there in front of our dearest friends who've been witness to our love, seeing the good times and the bad times, shared our joys and sorrows. How perfect. Those dear souls who will share our moment of ultimate joy.
Sam: Better still, why don't we have 'em over right here? We'll do it right here.
Diane: Oh, I don't want those people in my house.

Sam: Wish me luck. [guests cheering]
Norm: Sammy, uh, let me just give you a little piece of advice I wish somebody would've given me once. Run, Sammy, run. Run like the wind. Disappear into the night. Go, Sam, go!