Norm: [enters] Evening, everybody.
All: Norm!
Sam: How's life treating you, Norm?
Norm: Well, Sammy, it's not. So I sure hope you are.

Sam: Hey, Cliffie, how're you doing?
Cliff: Not well, Sam. Boy, am I mad! I've never been this upset! Boy, three words, fellas. Three words: Dames is grief.
Norm: Fighting with Ma, huh?
Cliff: Oh, and how. It seems like that's all we do anymore. You know, you'd think it'd be a perfect set-up mother and a grown son living in a one bedroom apartment. But no. Reality check, gentlemen. Life is not like the movies, I guess, huh?
Sam: I'm sure it'll all blow over, Cliffie.
Cliff: No, no way, Sammy, not this time. I tell you that broad's pushed me too hard. Too hard, I tell you. It's about time I started pushing back. She's just gone and created a monster, that's all. But this monster is not gonna lie in some tomb of ice. No, sirree. My anger will melt that ice, so that I might rise up and, and crush the Tokyo of the buildings there beneath the talons of my animosity...
Frasier: Cliff, Cliff. We all appreciate how hard you're working on this metaphor, but we get the idea.

Woody: Well, he said he had a job to take care of at home.
Carla: Yeah, a little digging in the backyard, maybe. Getting rid of the murder weapon.
Frasier: Come on, Carla. I can't believe you people are still pursuing that paranoid fantasy about Cliff.
Carla: It's no fantasy, Frasier. And isn't it interesting that you're the one who keeps defending him?
Frasier: Well, I'm not defending him. I'm merely saying...
Carla: Where is Lilith these days, anyhow? Has anyone here heard from Lilith lately?
Norm: Oh, come on, Carla, lay off.
Carla: And what about Vera, Norm? Where is Vera?
Paul: Carla.
Carla: And has anyone ever seen Paul's alleged ex? You're all sick. It's an evil conspiracy. A bunch of frustrated men who slaughter women and then chop up their bodies in the dead of night! Oh, man! I'd better have a date pretty soon or I'm gonna start turning weird.