Norm: You know, I saw Teddy Kennedy over there.
Carla: Whoa. Norman, really?
Diane: I still say that Kennedy will be president some day. [all groan] No, wait. Maybe even next time. You know how politicians are.
Norm: Doesn't make sense.
Cliff: Nah, I really don't think so, there, Diane. I've got a pet little theory about that. You see, if you go back in history and take every president, you'll find that the numerical value of each letter in their last name was equally divisible into the year in which they were elected.
Man: So who's gonna win, Cliff? Reagan again? Mondale?
Cliff: No. Not a chance. See, I figured it out. By my calculations, our next president has to be named Yelnik McWawa.
Sam: That's the stupidest name I ever heard.
Coach: Sam, please. You're talking about our next president.

Sam: Hey, Diane, we're talking here.
Diane: She's talking. You're killing time between thoughts.
Sam: You got a problem?
Diane: Look, Sam. Just watch it, OK? She's not one of your usual bimboettes.
Sam: That's what I like about her. She's got a lot of class.
Diane: While I have never been a big fan of the women you date, I will say that at least they were too stupid to be harmful.
Sam: I knew they'd grow on you.

Coach: Sam, Lana gave me a message for you but I can't remember it.
Sam: Lana's here?
Coach: That's it.
Coach: By the way, what are you two doing? We got a lot of customers out there.
Sam: Coach, I got a problem. Diane's helping me talk through it.
Coach: Look, Sam, let me tell you something. You've faced a lot of tough problems. You always found a solution but ever since Sir lsaac Hayes here came along... No offence, Diane, I love Sir lsaac Hayes, but, Sam, since then, it's been talk, talk, talk.