Norm: [enters] Good afternoon, everybody.
All: Norm!
Coach: What'll you have, Normie?
Norm: A 1929 Lafitte Rothschild, Coach. Or a beer, whatever everyone's having.

Cliff: Hey, Norm, we haven't heard much lately about your quest to sire an heir for the old throne. So how goeth the baby-making?
Norm: Not good. Vera thinks it's my fault she's not pregnant. Says I'm not trying hard enough.
Cliff: Well, I hope before you answered intemperately, you took into account her frustration in the maternal instinct department.
Norm: No, I said, "Drop dead in a ditch."
Cliff: Perfect.
Norm: I used to think that sleeping was the greatest pleasure you could have in bed. Now I'm sure of it.
Larry: Hey, Norm, what's the matter? Why don't you like having sex with your wife?
Norm: We're not exactly what each other wants in a sexual partner, you know. For example, she wishes I looked a little more like Charles Bronson. And I wish she looked a little less like Charles Bronson.

Diane: You can't give her some standard prearranged speech you have for dumping women.
Sam: I do not have a standard prearranged speech for dumping women. Come on, every situation is different. For example, the speech I dumped you with would be totally inappropriate.
Diane: I don't think you dumped me.
Sam: Well, you see? That was the beauty of it. Come on, give me credit, would you, for knowing that I couldn't possibly have one speech for every situation.
Cliff: Yeah, he's got six.
Norm: Sammy, I think this one calls for number three: "It's times like these, I'm ashamed to be a man."