Sam: No, I'm doing this for Rebecca. I figure the farther I fall, the hotter she gets. Who's with me?
Norm: I am, Sammy.
Cliff: Norm, you turncoat you!
Norm: No, Cliffie, it's as if my whole life came down to this one moment! And if I jump and I make it, I prove to myself that I am worth something. That there's a reason for me being on this Earth. Then I can just sit down and plant it on that bar stool for the rest of my life. Let's go!

Rebecca: Thank you for caring. You see, Sam? And you said very few of our customers would care enough to write down suggestions.
Sam: No, I said very few of our customers could write.
Rebecca: Well, you are wrong. I mean, look at all of these. Read that. Let's see how we can make Cheers more responsive to its customers' needs.
Sam: Uh... "Cheers should have a happy hour."
Rebecca: Not legal in the state of Massachusetts.
Sam: All right. "Serve hot hors d'oeuvres."
Rebecca: Conflict of interest with Melville's.
Sam: Oh, the old place is really shaping up, isn't it?
Rebecca: You know, there's got to be one practical suggestion in here. Now here's one. [gasps] Ooh, it's a long one. That means someone really cared. "The thing I like best about Cheers is the sense of warmth and affection I get from the employees, especially the manager, who seems to be a generous, open-hearted woman." Did you hear that? The manager. "In fact, the only thing needed to complete the loving family feeling of this bar, would be if the manager made the naked pretzel with the bartender."
[Rebecca scrunches up the paper and throws it on the ground]

Norm: Sammy, Magnificent Seven!
Sam: Great movie.
Norm: No, that's my order. Come on.
Woody: Hey, I never sat down at this bar as a customer. What's good here?
Norm: I've heard the beer's okay.