Woody: Well, what about you, Sam? You want some crab salad?
Sam: From Melville's? Forget it. I hate that guy John Hill. I'd like to rip his head off and dribble it down Beacon Street.
Woody: Well, forget the crab salad, Sam. I think you could use something with a little fiber in it.
Sam: Woody, I forbid you to eat that man's food.
Woody: Well, Sam, it's a free lunch, and you know how much I make. I mean, I don't always have enough money for lunch, but I do get awful hungry. And, remember, we had that talk about the pretzels being just for the customers.
Sam: Oh, go on, go on, get out of here. Go eat your stupid salad.

Rebecca: Congratulations, Gino. I think it's terrific when a young man like yourself finds his calling. I'm happy for you.
Gino: Oh, yeah? How happy? Why don't you, uh, show me?

Woody: You guys are really missing out. This crab salad looks great.
Norm: All right. Where's ours?
Woody: Well, I thought you said you didn't want any.
Paul: I don't remember saying that. Do you, Norm?
Norm: I never said that in my life.
Woody: Come on. I thought you guys were going to order something else.
Norm: Well, we didn't, Woody. It's nearly 11:00. I'm getting a little dizzy.
Sam: That does look kind of good.
Woody: Aah, I can't give you guys my food every day.
Norm: Woody, it's not every day. It's just on days I'm particularly hungry, okay?
Woody: Don't bite my head off. I mean it. You know, you've got that look in your eye.

Woody: What's wrong, Sam?
Sam: Oh, I think I broke my tooth. I don't believe that. There's a shell in this salad. I'm going to sue him for everything he's worth.
Woody: Oh, great! Just when I get a little ahead in my checking account.
Sam: Not you, Woody. Hill. Ooh, you know something? I am going to sue him. Oh, yes! Oh, yes, and I'm going to win, too. [laughs] Here's to me!
Norm: All right.
[Sam grunts as he takes a drink of his soda]

Cliff: You know, uh, you know, all my life I've, uh, kind of wanted to be a stand-up comedian. You know, uh, oh, here, here it is. How's this for an idea? Comedy night at Cheers. Seven nights a week, six shows a night. "The cock-eyed mind of Cliff Clavin."
Frasier: So you're saying it'd be just like any other night except for the mike?
Cliff: Yeah, yeah! Hey, hey, what to you say there, Becs? Huh?
Rebecca: Well, I guess you could do your comedy here, Cliff. But you know what? I mean, wouldn't you rather do it at a professional comedy club?
Cliff: Huh?
Rebecca: You know, the Laugh Tureen in Kenmore Square has an open mike night.
Cliff: Oh, yeah.
Rebecca: As a matter of fact, I think it's tonight.
Cliff: Hey, that's a great idea, Rebecca. I'll just, uh, yeah, spend the afternoon polishing up my act and, uh, showcase it there tonight. Oh, why waste all this stuff on you guys? See you later.
Rebecca: And you people think I'm so stupid.

Rebecca: Sam, did you see your dentist? Did you get your tooth fixed?
Sam: [lisping] Yeth, good as new.
Woody: They shoot you full of Novocain?
Sam: Yeth, they did. It's all worn off now.

Rebecca: All right, there now. There's all my receipts. Now I'm ready. Where's my calculator?
Carla: Oh, oh, here it is. I was just washing it off for you. [Rebecca gasps] Here you go. Come on, just plug it in and start tapping away.
Rebecca: Carla, this is, this is an expensive calculator.
Carla: Oh, yeah. I'm probably going to rot in Hell for that. Not!

Gino: Hey, Ma, check it out.
Carla: Gino, what, what are you wearing? Isn't that a little flashy for a priest?
Gino: Oh, no, a priest. That was this morning. I'm gonna be a male model. I figured why waste these looks on the church? [thunder rumbling]
Carla: Uh-oh.

Carla: Okay. Okay, I got it. Starting right now, I'm gonna lead the perfect life. I'm gonna be good. Gonna be nice. From now on, I'm going to be nice.
Rebecca: Carla, would you please serve table seven?
Carla: Shut up! So far, so good.

Frasier: Carla, doesn't that hurt?
Carla: Yeah, but I deserve it. I'm atoning. I thought of walking on hot coals, and I thought of sleeping on a bed of nails, but nothing I think of seems like enough. I just got to think of some way to punish myself that no human being has ever done before.
Cliff: Oh, hey, I got it, Becs. All I have to do is find somebody to sit down with me, you know, like a personal audience, and I'll go over my routine, you know, over and over again, a hundred times or so until I nail it down. Huh? Any volunteers?
[Rebecca and Frasier look at Carla, who is kneeling down by Cliff]
Carla: [to the heavens] You really play hardball, don't you?