Carla: I don't know what that Latin lover said, but I sure dig the way he said it.
Cliff: Well, if you ask me, Ramon's a lot more Latin than lover. Yeah, you know, study after study show that the old sons of Spain just don't have our sexual prowess.
Norm: Cliffie, nobody has your sexual prowess.
Cliff: Thanks, Norm. You know, it seems that the tropical sun dries out a man's vital juices. You ever seen a raisin?
Norm: Have you ever seen a doctor?

Norm: All right, I hate to change the subject, but I don't know if anyone else recognizes we seem to have a little problem here.
Woody: Oh, you need another beer, Mr. Peterson?
Norm: Okay, we have two problems.

Norm: Uh, there's a distinct possibility that Sammy may never come back.
Frasier: Frankly, I don't blame him. Beautiful weather, miles of beaches...
Cliff: Yeah, chicks.
Frasier: No suits, no rules, no tight shoes to pinch your feet.
Norm: Yeah, that'd be good to get out of the city a little bit, wouldn't it?
Cliff: Oh, yeah. I got five vacation days coming to me.
Frasier: Oh, say, it may be a crazy idea, but why don't we go down there, too? Lay out in the sun for a while, work on that old manana attitude?
Woody: Should we do it? What do you say, guys?
Norm: Ah, maybe tomorrow.

Man: [on radio] And we're on the help line with...
Rebecca: Oh, me. Me, hi. Uh, hello? My name is Reb...punzel. And uh, I'm sorry if I sound a little bit nervous, but this is the first time I've ever called a radio show for help. But I have this problem, and it's so horrendous that I didn't have anyplace else to turn. Now, I have this new boss at work, and he's incredibly rich and he's incredibly powerful, but he is also sort of a, um.. Oh, God, how could I put this without sounding mean? Um... a weasely little twerp. Anyway, this guy asked me out, and to get out of going out with him, I told him that I was going with this guy named Sam...son. So, Samson, who can be an incredible jerk sometimes, told my boss, the twerp, that we broke up. All right, so my boss...
Man: The twerp.
Rebecca: Right. My boss asked me out, and you're not going to believe this. He proposed to me. I mean, the only thing I could think of to do, without jeopardizing my career, was to tell my boss that I was still in love with Samson. But I cannot keep avoiding the guy. As an example, he is upstairs right now having lunch at Mel...monico's. Melmonico's. The thing is, that now I'm worried. Do you think I did the right thing?
Man: I think so. Now, did you have a gardening question? You called the Dr. Green Thumb Show. [Rebecca hangs up]
Carla: [enters] Uh, just a reminder, Rapunzel. Plant your bulbs early.

Carla: Oh, Sammy, tell me it isn't true.
Sam: Carla, come on. It's not true.
Carla: I knew that. You're a lousy actor. I'm pretty good though, huh?
Woody: Well, actually, Carla, as a student of the theater, I have to correct you. What you were doing there is not called acting. It's called improvising.
Carla: Shut up, Woody.
Woody: Now, that would be directing.

Cliff: Oh, yeah, I know, Norm, that's a that's a beautiful birdie you got there on the ninth.
Norm: Thank you.
Frasier: Oh, so you guys were playing golf today, huh?
Cliff: Yeah, nothing like bashing the old pill around, huh? Young Woody Nicklaus here broke 80.
Norm: All right; good man.
Frasier: Hey, really? You shot under 80 for 18 holes?
Woody: Well, no actually, it was 17.
Norm: Yeah, the 18th hole is the windmill. If you're stupid enough to play that one, it's going to eat your little colored ball.
Frasier: You were playing miniature golf.
Norm: Oh, yeah. Do you have any idea how long those real golf courses are?

Martin Teal: [to his colleagues] Gentlemen, that was a pretty poor showing for a power lunch. Ralph, you're going to have to start doing something more than just taking up space at these meetings.
Cliff: How does a guy so young get to be so incredibly powerful?
Woody: I just try to maintain a cheerful attitude and not abuse my position.
Frasier: I recently read a Forbes profile on our young Mr. Teal.
Cliff: Oh, yeah? Apparently, he started with his father's firm, kicked the old guy out when he was 17, hasn't looked back since.
Woody: Big deal. Did he ever win a purple ribbon in the Jefferson County Spelldown? Anathema. A-N-A-T-H-E-M-A. Anathema.
Frasier: Touche, Woody.
Woody: Touche. T-O-U-C-H-E, and a little slanty line. Touche.

Rebecca: Just keep your stupid mouth shut and smile. We're engaged.
Sam: Oh. Great. Well, let's begin the honeymoon.
Rebecca: Sam, we're not actually getting married.
Sam: Well, that's even better. I can enjoy the honeymoon.
Rebecca: Come on, Sam. It's just a way to get Martin off my back.
Sam: Oh, dear you mean the problem-free relationship suddenly developed a glitch?
Rebecca: I can't very well tell the future president of the corporation no. I'd never work again. Please, Sam, just help me out here just until Martin gets over me. [Sam sighs] Come on.
Sam: Oh, I don't know. You know, if I go along with this, will you go to bed with me?
Rebecca: Let's put it this way. If you don't go along with this, I will never go to bed with you.
Sam: Wait. All right. So, in other words, if I don't... No. Wait, wait. That means if you... All right, this is me, this is you, this is the bed.
Rebecca: Sam, just do it.

Carla: I got him, I got him. I caught my little Ricardo Montalban. Just as he was getting into a cab. Go get your little apron on, honey.
Woody: Carla, how come you called Ramon Ricardo Montalban?
Carla: Because his tight little chinos are so packed with rich, Corinthian leather.
Woody: Oh, yeah, I see, now that you mention it.

Man: Excuse me, bartender, can we get a couple of pina coladas over here?
Sam: Sure thing. Let me just finish making this margarita. [to a woman] So, anyway, Margarita...
Pepe: Buenos noches, amigos.
All: Pepe!
Sam: Que tal, Pepe?
Pepe: Los calzones, Sammy. Esa agua esta muy fria.
Sam: Good one, man, good one.