Carla: Hey, Clavin, why don't you wise up? She's probably just coming over here to dump you. By the way, if I'm in the back room when she comes, would somebody call me?
Cliff: Well, you know, uh, Carla, I gave that possibility some consideration. And I figured that if that dame wanted to shove this lug in the dead-letter file, she would've 86'd me with a postcard and a 2-bit stamp.
Woody: Sam, is it me, or is Mr. Clavin starting to sound like Raymond Chandler?

Cliff: No, mis amigos, I know exactly what's going on in that sexy little egg-shaped head of hers. She left me lo those many months ago to pursue a career. That wasn't enough. No sirree. She wanted her man back. Heck, you've seen my bumper sticker... "letter carriers do it on foot."
Norm: Yeah, I have seen that. I always wondered what the hell it meant.
Cliff: Uh, I'm not sure. They were giving them away free.

Cliff: I just got a very auspicious message on this miracle of modern technology.
Sam: I didn't know they made 8-track answering machines.
Cliff: Yeah, seems I got this message from Canada from a certain miss Margaret O'Keefe.
Lilith: Who's Margaret O'Keefe?
Frasier: Oh, she's a young woman with whom Cliff had a brief romantic encounter.
Lilith: If you don't want to tell me, just say so. You don't have to make things up.