Frasier: You know, Sam, there's one way to get Rebecca that you've overlooked.
Sam: Hold that self-respect thought. What do you got?
Frasier: You see, it's been psychologically documented that all human animals have a neurotic hair-trigger response to at least one of the five sensory stimuli. Well, it could be anything, actually. Oh, it's the sound of the surf pounding against the shore, the smell of honeysuckle on a warm summer night, the taste of a vintage Chateauneuf du Pape, fire-red fingernails dancing through your chest hair... a black lace teddy straining against its fleshy cargo.
Sam: Frasier, man, snap out of it.
Frasier: In a minute, Sam.

Norm: Uh-oh, Cliff, greenhorn alert.
Margaret: Excuse me, Cliff Clavin?
Cliff: I am.
Margaret: I'm your trainee, Margaret O'Keefe.
Cliff: Straighten up, O'Keefe. You're in uniform. I wasn't informed you were a woman.
Margaret: Sorry, sir.
Cliff: Well, no offense, sister, but I just don't believe that women belong in the trenches. I mean, they're fine for sorting mail or selling stamps, but when you're lugging a 40-pound sack up a hill with a Nor'easter hitting you right smack in the kisser, you don't have time to fret about going home and soaking your delicates.
Margaret: I wear cotton briefs, sir.
Cliff: That'll be enough of that, O'Keefe.

Cliff: Woody, a bottle of bubbly, tout de suite.
Norm: All right, Cliffie's in a celebrating mood. That hearing must have gone pretty well, huh?
Cliff: Perfect, Norm. Margaret was completely exonerated.
Norm: You really snowed 'em, huh?
Cliff: Like a blizzard in Buffalo, my friend. Yeah, I told the supervisor that we were set upon by some armed thugs who then commandeered the vehicle and took it for a joyride.
Norm: A joyride in a mail truck? Cliffie, I've beaten those things on foot.
Carla: Clavin, what's come over you? I mean you're lying to your superiors, you're breaking rules, you're covering up. It's almost like you're developing a personality.
Cliff: Well, Carla, the King of England abdicated his throne for the love of a good woman. The least I could do is tell a little fib. Well, as we say down at the post office, here's looking up your address.

Cliff: Hi, Margaret. Come on in. l, uh, hope you like the room. It's- It's got a view.
Margaret: Oh, the ice machine. It's just like you to think of everything.
Cliff: So...
Margaret: So.
Cliff: So, uh, let me grab your jacket there.
Margaret: [chuckles] Cliff, I know this is an awkward moment. Couldn't we just somehow get past it?
Cliff: I'm for that.
[Margaret shrieks as Cliff flips her over onto the bed]
Cliff: Oh, Maggie! Maggie! Maggie!
Margaret: Oh, Cliff!
Cliff: Oh, Maggie! [knocking on door] Yes?
Policeman: [o.s.] It's the police!
Cliff: My first time and I get arrested.
Margaret: We aren't doing anything illegal. Answer the door.

Sam: Hey, everybody. This is Station WSAM. 50,000 watts of power-packed love coming your way. I'll be spinning the platters that matter here, and this next moldy oldie is dedicated to the one I lust. [knocking]
Rebecca: [o.s.] Who is it?
Sam: The Righteous Brothers.
Rebecca: [o.s.] Uh-oh.
Sam: [enters Rebecca's office] Hello there, butter knees.
[As "Unchained Melody" by The Righteous Brothers plays, Sam pulls Rebecca out of her chair and starts to dance with her. As Sam moves Rebecca's limp body towards the computer, she starts to start to type. After Sam gives up, he wheels Rebecca's chair to her so she can sit down. After Sam leaves, Rebecca walks over to the boombox and turns the volume up. Rebecca gasps and strokes her hair as the song continues. Norm enters]
Norm: Rebecca, this tab, look... [Rebecca kisses Norm and then stops the music] So, uh, I can pay this anytime you want.
Rebecca: I don't know what got into me. Please, apologize to Vera.
Norm: Are you kidding? After that, Vera should apologize to me.

Rebecca: Excuse me, can I have your attention please? It is my pleasure, once again, to present the Cheers Employee of the Month Award. And I am delighted to present it to our very own, Sam Malone. Congratulations. Bravo!
Sam: Whoa, whoa, whoa. I told you before I don't want that thing. And don't put my picture on the wall, either. I hate that stuff.
Norm: Oh, great speech, Sammy.
Rebecca: Fine. Carla, you haven't been offensive this month, why don't you take it?
Carla: Get that thing away from me.
Rebecca: Woody? Congratulations, you're the Employee of the Month.
Woody: Wow, four months in a row! I wasn't really expecting this great honor. I'm deeply moved. You know, it takes more than one person to win this award. [The patrons start to leave] It takes teamwork. I would like to thank my...

Margaret: Permission to speak freely, sir?
Cliff: Permission granted.
Margaret: I requested you as my trainer because I want to learn hard and I want to learn right. I want to be the best carrier in the department, next to you, of course. Because I love the post office more than my life itself.
Carla: Good grief, there's another one.
Margaret: The post office is in my blood; my father was a carrier, and his father before him. It's been a life-long dream of mine to wear the eagle on my sleeve and to be a part of the few, the proud...
Carla: The undateable.
Cliff: Oh, your attitude is commendable there, O'Keefe. Look, I think you better mosey on home now and grab some shuteye. You're going to need plenty of sleep. Tomorrow is TV Guide day.
Margaret: I'll do you proud, sir.
Cliff: Yeah, we'll see about that. [Margaret leaves] Is it my imagination, or was that woman coming on to me?
Norm: Cliffie, Walt Disney should have had your imagination.

Sam: Say, hi, honey. Um, Fras and I were just talking about how sorry we feel about you.
Rebecca: Why is that, Sam?
Sam: Well, it's just that you're always stuck in your office, you know, worrying about losses and profits and career moves, while we're out here having fascinating, fun-filled conversations about things like, well, like sexual stimuluses. By the way, do you have, do you have one of those?
Rebecca: Well, I am driven to a sexual frenzy by people who mind their own business.
Sam: No, no, really, listen. You know, it's not like I'm going to do anything with it or anything.
Rebecca: Okay, I'll be honest with you. I do have one and I'll give you a hint.
Sam: A hint? Great, why?
Rebecca: Because you'll never get it. And I mean that in every sense of the word. It's a song.
Sam: That's it? It's a song?
Rebecca: Mm-hmm. One little tiny song that turned my knees to butter when I was a teenager and still does. Good luck, Sam. The clock is ticking. Name that tune.

Frasier: Sam, why don't you try "Che Gelida Manina" from La Boheme? It can be almost achingly poignant when executed correctly. And it does turn Lilith into a cheap tramp.

Cliff: Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, aren't you overlooking the obvious here?
Sam: Yeah? What's that?
Cliff: "Ballad of The Green Berets."
Woody: Oh, that's a great song. [sings] Fighting soldiers from the sky.
Cliff: Anybody who isn't totally moved by that song is somebody I don't want to know.
Carla: Cliff, in honor of that song, why don't you put on a little green beret, go outside and sit on a land mine?