TV Quotes

Coach: You know, Sam, I got to tell you. I can't see Diane going off with Doc like that. I always figured that you and her would get married, you know?
Sam: No, come on, Coach.
Coach: No, no, I'm not kidding. I pictured you moving to a little home in the country with a rose garden out in the front and a nice little room in the back for me. You know, every Sunday night Diane would make us a fried chicken dinner and we'd sit on the porch and listen to the ball game. I'd bounce your kids on my knee... God, it was going to be a happy house.
Sam: Well, I guess that's going to be Frasier's house now, Coach.
Coach: Well, you can come by any time, Sam. But call first.

Sam: What got you in such a bad mood today?
Carla: Oh, I don't know. Everything. You know, this morning I was thinking I'm not married, I'm carrying my sixth kid, I'm broke, I live in squalor... I'm having a crisis of faith.
Coach: Oh, come on, Carla. Don't talk like that.
Carla: Well, would a just God be putting me through this, Coach?
Cliff: Well, I know it looks sort of bleak out there. But you just have to have patience. Remember Job.
Coach: Cliffie's right, honey. You got a good Job here. You're in great health...
Carla: I don't know. I don't know. [walks away]
Coach: Cliff, I didn't want to embarrass you in front of Carla, but you pronounce the word "job".

Norm: Hey, hey, hey, hey, Carla, let me get this straight. You're really not going back to Cheers?
Carla: I know it's a lousy job, Norm, but for the amount of money they're throwing at me, it's nothing I can't take.
Bartender: Carla, uh, I'm gonna put a new trainee with you for the next two weeks. She's a bright girl. She's, uh, an anthropology student at B.U. Ellen! Ellen, come meet Carla.
Ellen: Well, you must be Carla. I know what you're thinking: "She doesn't look like a waitress." That's because I'm really a writer. Or actuellement, a poetess.
Carla: [screams]

John: Carla, it's the first of the month. Where's my rent check for the poolroom and the bathrooms?
Carla: Here you are. Buy yourself a melon in case you misplace your head.
John: Thank you. Tell me, Carla, clinically speaking, are you considered a dwarf or a midget?
Carla: Say, is that your head or is your neck blowing a bubble?
John: Somebody phone the authorities in Paris. A gargoyle has just fallen off Notre Dame and is now taking drink orders.
Carla: You know, two heads like that would make a perfectly good butt.
John: Shrike.
Carla: Bullet head.
John: Slattern.
Carla: Hatchet face.
John: Well, must be off. Till next month, then.
Carla: He's good people.