Cliff: No, no, it's a well-documented fact that the female of the species is irresistibly drawn to men in uniform. Yeah, just yesterday, some lonely, frustrated housewife saw me coming up the garden path, you know, peeking through the window, and she tries to coyly titillate me by pulling down the shade so I wonder what's going on behind it.
Carla: Let me dispel the mystery. She was puking.
Cliff: Carla, don't you get bored just hanging around here all day waiting to take cheap shots at me?
Carla: Yeah, I should get a beeper.
Cliff: All right, look. That's it. I am sick and tired of being your whipping boy. Today the worm turns. You are not going to insult me any longer, because I am not going to give you the chance. As of from right now, I am shutting up, zipping my lip. [applause] And my friends support me.

Norm: [enters] Morning, everybody.
All: Norm!
Woody: Can I pour you a draft, Mr. Peterson?
Norm: A little early, isn't it, Woody?
Woody: For a beer?
Norm: No, for stupid questions. Pour.

Woody: I know I'm not very sophisticated, but I don't think what Sam is doing is right.
Cliff: Well, look, don't you put yourself down with me, and I happen to agree with you.
Woody: I mean, standing around tending bar all day is like the worst thing a dancer could do for his calves.
Carla: Speaking of calves, Woody, was it painful when the cow kicked you in the head?
Woody: You get used to it.

Norm: And, uh, here's his bedroom.
Rebecca: [gasps in awe] I feel kind of queasy. Like I don't belong here. Like I'm doing something wrong.
Norm: I know. That's how I feel in my bedroom.

Frasier: Yes, you see, it's an established psychological fact that the more outrageous a lie one tells, the more readily will the victim believe it. You see, if you told Mr. Drake a sufficiently outlandish story, odds are he'd buy it.
Woody: No, that's impossible.
Carla: No, Woody, it's a stroke of genius. Frasier, you're brilliant. That is one of the most brilliant ideas you've ever had. And you've had a lot of brilliant ideas.
Frasier: Thank you, Carla.
Carla: See, Woody? It works. Bonehead bought it.

Carla: Sammy, I hear you got a sure thing lined up, huh?
Sam: Mm, no, I never like to use the term "sure thing." I prefer the term "in the bag." [Cliff scoffs] What? What?
Cliff: Ah, Sammy, come on. Isn't this, you know, pretending to be a phony-bologna dancer a little bit beneath you? I mean, when I go picking up girls, I don't need all that stuff. All I need is a wink and a smile.
Carla: And a rag doused with chloroform.

Norm: Anyway, this is my fantasy, sir. It's a little outrageous. So, uh, just stay with me. Even though I was born poor and I'll never be a rich man, somehow, it wouldn't make any difference if one time, sir, just one time, just one darn time, I could do something symbolic, like carry a rich man across the lawn in his pajamas.
Evan Drake: Come here.
Norm: I know, I know, I know, it sounds crazy, I know. Sir, no. Sir, I don't have a fever.
Evan Drake: No, I know that. I'm feeling for the lobotomy scar.
Norm: Sir, sir, please. Sir, please, please. All right, all right, all right, all right! Look, if I actually let you do it..
Norm: Uh-huh.
Evan Drake: Would you promise me- Would you swear on your mother's grave that you would let me sleep?
Norm: Yes, sir, I swear. I prom-
Evan Drake: No, no, no, no, no. You've got to do more than promise. You've got to give me your solemn oath as a crazy person.
Norm: My oath, my vow, my pledge. I promise you.
Evan Drake: All right, okay. [Drake gets out of bed]
Norm: Thank you so much, sir.
Evan Drake: All right.
Norm: Thank you, thank you very much, sir. [Norm lifts Drake into his arms] Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much, sir. You know, sir, I don't mean to flatter you, but you're very firm for your age.

Frasier: You know something, chaps, I had a particularly fascinating session this morning. [silence] No, honestly. Someone I was seeing for the first time. Extraordinarily beautiful, young woman, who's uh, rather unique malaise is to be aroused with sexual frenzy by... Oh, good Lord. Excuse me. I don't really think I should be discussing my patients here. [everyone follows Frasier]
Sam: Uh, how about discussing them over here?
Frasier: Well, I suppose it wouldn't violate any doctor-patient confidentiality if I don't use names. Pour the beer, Woody.
Woody: I thought you weren't going to use any names, Dr. Crane.
Sam: Woody.
Frasier: Well, it seems this woman has her passions inflamed by men who dance.
Sam: Wait a minute, wait a minute. Men who dance? That's weird.
Frasier: What's even more bizarre, is that she will catapult herself compulsively into the arms of any man in tights or tap shoes. Fascinating fixation.
Sam: Huh.
Frasier: Ooh, geez. I've got to go. I'm sorry.
Sam: Where you going?
Frasier: My ballet class. No, no, lunch, lunch. That was a little psychological humor. You know, as my old professor used to say, if you can't laugh at your patients, what fun are they? See you later.

Norm: You know, uh, I am over there all by myself, so if you want to drop by and, uh, check any of the house out, I can get you in.
Rebecca: No. I can't.
Carla: Oh, go on. You're dying to look in his drawers. That's right, he won't be there.
Rebecca: The last thing on my mind is Evan Drake and where he sleeps. Now, I don't want to be distracted. I've got to get these figures into the bed of directors- Board of directors.
Norm: Shall we say in one hour?
Rebecca: I'll be there.

Sam: Uh, excuse me. Uh, you had a session with him? Are you a patient of his?
Jennifer: That's right. Why?
Sam: Oh, just curious. [dances as he clears up a table]
Jennifer: Well, it's not that important. I just thought if I caught him, I could still get my package back.
[Sam puts the glasses on the bar with pinache]
Sam: I understand perfectly.
Jennifer: Well, I'm out of luck, I guess. I'll just have to stop by tomorrow.
[Sam raises his leg onto the barre]
Sam: [sings] Gotta dance, gotta dance
Jennifer: Why are you doing that?
Sam: This? Oh? [chuckling] I guess it's kind of an old reflex with us hoofers.
Jennifer: Oh. You're a dancer?
Sam: Well, kind of. Yeah, my name's Sam Malone but people call me Bojangles.