Sam: Uh... Pitcher's elbow. Pitcher's elbow. Sometimes I lose control of it during intense moments of sorrow. Coach, I think maybe if I went out and got a breath of fresh air, it might fight back these tears. You wanna join me?
Coach: No, I feel terrific, Sam.
Sam: Join me!
Coach: Oh, yeah, I do feel a cry coming on.
[Sam and Coach jump up and down outside the door]
Cliff: Boy, they're really taking it hard, huh?

Diane: Sam, you're crying.
Sam: No, I'm not.
Diane: Yes, you are. Your eyes are all red and your nose is running.
Sam: I'm allergic to cat stories.
Diane: Oh, I can't believe this. Oh, Sam, this is so sweet.
Sam: You poor kid. [they hug] [Sam goes in for a kiss]
Diane: Wait. What are we doing?
Sam: We're sharing our grief.
Diane: Sam, this doesn't feel like sharing grief.
Sam: Well, grief's kind of a tricky thing. What do you say we get back to it?

Diane: You want to know what bugs me about you?
Sam: What?
Diane: The cologne you always wear is totally without nuance!
Sam: Oh, my God! Well, that must explain all the laughter behind my back!
Diane: I don't know why I ever try to talk to you. Every conversation we've ever had is an ordeal.
Sam: Well, let's not have any more. What do you say?
Diane: Fine.
Sam: And I tell you something else. I tell you something. You won't catch me trying to come on to you again.
Diane: You're right you won't.
Sam: Well, hey, we agree on something, don't we?
Diane: No, no, I think we agree on one other thing. That I am getting the hell out of here.
Sam: Two things. Diane!
Diane: What?
Sam: Wait!
Diane: What is it?
Sam: I'm sorry about your cat.
Diane: Thank you. [sobs] Thank you.
Sam: You're welcome. [they go to hug and immediately turn away from each other] I'll see you tomorrow.
Diane: All right.

Diane: Why did you get into computers, Marshall?
Marshall: Well, I enjoy integrating formerly unassociated supporting elements to maximize a probability ratio by functionally interweaving the input data.
Carla: Hey, watch it, Marshall, I'm heatin' up!
Sam: Marshall can make his computer do incredible things. He gets it to write poetry, play games, even makes predictions on elections, sports.
Diane: Sounds like fun.
Sam: You got any hot tips for us, Marshall?
Marshall: The Celtics will lose today.
Coach: Watch your tongue, Marshall.
Marshall: No, let me show you. Take a look at this.
Coach: [inspects readout] Can't argue with that, Sam.

Marshall: You see, this shows correlation between the Celtics' win-loss record and the relative activity of the Van Allen radiation belt.
Coach: Isn't that the one that Buster Crabbe wears on TV?
Marshall: I know it sounds a little crazy, but just by coincidence, I noticed that the days the belt is in a state of flux, the Celtics are always beaten.
Sam: Are you sure about this? I mean, your computer wouldn't be pulling your leg, would it?
Marshall: Oh, no, my computer never kids, Sam. He appreciates a good joke, but he never tells one.

Sam: Coach? When was the last time you had a sure thing?
Coach: Uh... Rosie McGonagle.
Sam: No, no, no. Coach. I'm talking about betting against the Celtics.

Coach: We've never bet against a Boston team before. Sam, we've never done anything like that.
Sam: I know, I know, I know.
Coach: Sam, you better think hard about this. I mean, all our customers will turn against us.
Sam: I know, they'd never forgive us.
Coach: Forgive us? They'd hate us for the rest of our lives. But of course, we're not gonna live forever, are we?
Sam: I'll get it down.
Coach: Sam. Sam, we can't let any of the boys know about this. It's gotta be quiet.
Sam: I can't even remember what we were talking about.
Coach: Sam, we were talking about betting against the Celtics!
Sam: Yeah, thanks. Thanks.
Coach: I worry about him.

Norm: We can still win, right, Coachie?
Coach: Oh, sure, Norm. I wish I had some money on the Celtics. Don't you wish you had money on the Celtics, Sam?
Sam: Go wait on somebody, huh, Coach?
Coach: Oh, good idea. I'll go wait on somebody.