Rebecca: Has anybody seen Woody? He was scheduled to be here at 6:00.
Sam: He's going to be late.
Rebecca: Good God, people. I don't even know why I bother to prepare a work schedule. Everybody just comes and goes as they damn well please.
Sam: Yeah, he, uh, he did send these, though. [hands Rebecca flowers]
Rebecca: "l'm sorry I'm late. Please dock my pay." Now, this is the way to be late.

Carla: Where is the little [kissing sounds] anyway?
Sam: I don't know.
Carla: [chuckling] Oh, no, Sam. I've been a mother for 18 years. When someone says "l don't know" like that, they know. Cough it up, or I'm going to get it out of you another way.
Sam: I don't know; I'm telling you the tru- [Carla holds the water hose up to Sam's nose] Oh, a-a-all right, all right, all right, all right. Uh, he's auditioning for a play.

Cliff: Hicky McHick from Hicksville wants to act?
Sam: He's been hanging out at this little local playhouse and, you know, doing all the odds and ends. Sweeping, cleaning toilets, everything no one else wants to do.
Norm: I wonder if Woody'd like to act over at my house?

Sam: Uh, hey, wait, here he comes. He's very sensitive about this. Don't say anything about his acting.
Woody: Hey, everybody.
Cliff: Hey, Woody. If I knew you wanted a "role" so badly, I would have stopped at the bakery.

Sam: So, what's this, uh, play you tried out for?
Woody: Well, it's a brand-new one. It's called Authors in Hell. I'm hoping to play either Mark Twain, one of the guys from the Algonquin Round Table or Satan. But heck, I'd be just as happy playing a fire-breathing incubus. They get to stay onstage the whole four hours.
Woody: Hey, hey, that's my director, Grif Palmer. This must mean I got the part.
Norm: Or that he's thirsty.
Woody: Hi, Mr. Palmer. Can I get you a drink?
Grif Palmer: No, thanks.
Woody: I got the part!

Grif Palmer: Woody, you're a multitalented young man.
Woody: I didn't get the part? [Grif shakes his head] Well, you know, I've tried out so many times, and I've never gotten a part. Maybe I'm just wasting my time in the theater.
Grif Palmer: Come on, Woody, don't give up so easily. Once upon a time, there was a young man named Grif Palmer who also auditioned for many a role that he didn't get.
Woody: As many as me?
Grif Palmer: Well, no.

Rebecca: Woody, this isn't going to interfere with your job, is it?
Woody: Gee, I don't think so. Well... yeah.
Rebecca: I'm sorry, Woody, I need you here nights.
Woody: Miss Howe, this is my golden chance. I have to do this. Don't you understand, I just gotta do it! I just gotta!
Sam: That was really good, man.

Grif Palmer: Welcome to the theater, Woody. To the ranks of the Lunts and the Oliviers. To a profession rife with style, with history, with dignity. To a calling I only hope will bring you as much joy as it has brought me.
Carla: Hi.
Grif Palmer: Hello.
Woody: You know Grif Palmer?
Carla: Yeah. He's the janitor at my kids' school.

Norm: Huckleberry alert.
Cliff: Hey, Mark Twit!

Rebecca: Sam, run upstairs and get me some change.
Sam: Aw, come on, that's a junior bartender's job.
Rebecca: You are the junior bartender.
Sam: Oh, right. Yeah. Yeah, but I'm- l'm working my way up, you know? Pretty soon, I might even own my own bar.