Cliff: It's, uh... I met this girl.
Rebecca: And?
Cliff: Oh. People usually stop me at that point. Anyway, uh night after night I keep begging her to come down to the bar and meet the guys, but she just won't come. Just wants to stay at home and watch Jeopardy. Uh, I think that maybe she's a little-little bit ashamed about the way she looks, and she's afraid she might embarrass me. So, uh, you got any suggestions, or what can I do?
Rebecca: Let me see here. Um... Oh. Have you ever seen those beauty magazine makeovers?
Cliff: Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. Sure, sure.
Rebecca: Well, then what are you bugging me for? Oh, wait a minute. If you ever see me with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth, would you do me a favor?
Cliff: What's that?
Rebecca: Kill Sam.

Carla: You got something on her, don't you? You found something incriminating in her mail. For God's sake, Cliff, just ask her for money. Don't be vicious.
Cliff: Look, look, look, is it so hard for you people, and whatever you are, Carla, to believe that, uh, this, uh, beautiful woman would go out with me on her own accord?
Frasier: No, of course not, Cliff. I can think of any number of reasons why a woman might behave that way.
Carla: You can?
Frasier: Well, of course, but remember... I'm a psychiatrist.

Sam: Hey, hey, hey, Carla. Do you smell smoke? Come here.
Carla: Of course I smell smoke, you dink. It's a bar. I can also smell beer, sweat and lousy tips.
Sam: No, no, no, no. No, she's smoking in there. I knew she couldn't last this long.
[Sam kicks Rebecca's door open and finds her sitting calmly at her desk]
Sam: Oh... A-ha! Oh, uh hey, uh, where's the pool table? Ah, wrong room.
[After Sam backs out of the office, Rebecca flicks out a cigarette she was keeping in her mouth. Sam returns to find her smoking]
Sam: [laughs] I knew it! I knew it! I knew it! I'm not going to say I knew it, but I knew it. I knew it. Now, this was your idea, too. I did not come up with this. This is your idea. What a great idea! Oh! [laughs] Well, what do you say? Uh, shall we, uh, strip down to our smiles here and show the, uh show the couch here a good time?

Rebecca: No. We'll go to my place.
Sam: Excuse me? Ooh! You're really going to go through with this, aren't you?
Rebecca: Yes, I am, but I want to get one thing straight.
Sam: Ooh, yeah, yeah.
Rebecca: My smoking has nothing to do with sexual frustration over you or anyone else. It's just a stupid habit. But I made a pact, so now I'm going to suffer the consequences no matter how vile or disgusting they may be. Let's go.
Sam: Well... You don't really want to do this, do you?
Rebecca: No, it's all right. I'll just close my eyes and imagine someone appealing. Besides, I have a feeling it won't take long.

Sam: You know... Gee whiz, you know, if- if you're not going to get in the spirit of this, then I- I just don't want to do it.
Rebecca: No, come on, come on, a deal's a deal.
Sam: No.
Rebecca: Look, I made a pact. I just want to get it over with.
Sam: No, I don't want to do it. You know, I have some pride. I have some dignity. I'll tell you what. You find someone else to do your dirty work. [leaves Rebecca's office] Thinks she can mess with Sam Malone.
Carla: What happened?
Sam: She asked me to go to bed with her, and I said no. [slaps his forehead] Oh!
[When Sam runs back to Rebecca's office she has looked the door]

Sally: Besides, appearances don't matter at all.
Cliff: Of course they don't.
Sally: Like, it doesn't bother me that you wear those funny white socks.
Cliff: Of course it doesn't.
Sally: Or that it looks as if you trim your mustache with a butter knife.
Cliff: Eh, another fine example.
Sally: Cliff, have you ever considered joining a gym?
Cliff: Oh, you ever considered wearing flats?

Rebecca: Dr. Crane, l- l'm really sorry. I think I'm just a little on edge.
Frasier: Look, I apologize, too. I behaved very unprofessionally.
Rebecca: It's just that I'm really frustrated because I can't seem to kick this habit.
Frasier: Well, listen, may I suggest something that seems to have worked for many of my patients?
Carla: Changing doctors?

Philip: Hey, how about a couple of beers?
Woody: I'm afraid I'm going to have to see some ID. [Philip hands him his ID] All righty. Thank you. And If I can see yours, please.
Steven: Why don't we just forget about it. Let's just get out of here.
Carla: Guys, guys, wait a minute. Before you run screaming from here, let me ask you something. This friend of mine is having twins. All right, it's me. Now, I don't care if they call each other cute little names like "Chipper and Skipper," or if they pretend to be each other, make their teachers' lives a living hell. See, what worries me is that they'll have ESP, you know, and they'll communicate silent, evil thoughts and I won't know what they're saying about me. You think that's weird? [they're silent] Well?
Steven: We're discussing it.

Cliff: What a surprise, you guys. Welcome to Chez Cliff.
Norm: Sounds like party central out there.
Cliff: Well, I just hope that they can, uh, keep up with the Chairman of the Broads.

Cliff: Okay. Right here we have the living room.
Norm: Mm-hmm.
Cliff: Right over here is the bedroom.
Norm: Whoa. Hey, slow down, let me catch my breath here.
Cliff: Whoa, almost forgot the kitchen.
Norm: Yeah, I think the builder did, too.