John: Carla, it's the first of the month. Where's my rent check for the poolroom and the bathrooms?
Carla: Here you are. Buy yourself a melon in case you misplace your head.
John: Thank you. Tell me, Carla, clinically speaking, are you considered a dwarf or a midget?
Carla: Say, is that your head or is your neck blowing a bubble?
John: Somebody phone the authorities in Paris. A gargoyle has just fallen off Notre Dame and is now taking drink orders.
Carla: You know, two heads like that would make a perfectly good butt.
John: Shrike.
Carla: Bullet head.
John: Slattern.
Carla: Hatchet face.
John: Well, must be off. Till next month, then.
Carla: He's good people.

Cliff: You know, uh, I don't think that a ground surface irregularity of this nature is so strange. I mean, after all, the entire East Coast is sinking. We all know that. I mean, due to global warming, the polar ice caps are melting and, hey, we're gonna be all underwater anyway. Yeah, that's why l, uh, like to keep a couple of cans of tuna and an inflatable raft in the trunk of my car. Wait a second, I ate the tuna a couple of nights ago. I'd better go out and get some more. Boy, if that flood comes tonight, I'm really going to kick myself.

Lilith: This is a bit of a surprise, isn't it, Rebecca? Why do you want Cheers? I would think for you this bar would only have negative associations connected with it. Well, think of all the heartbreak you've had here, the forgotten goals, the missed opportunities.
Norm: Hey, it's called atmosphere, babe.
Lilith: I would think for you this place would have the stench of failure.
Carla: No, that's Clavin, and F.Y.l., it's not just failure.
Rebecca: You know, actually, Lilith, I had more productive, successful times at Cheers than I've had anyplace else in my life.
Lilith: Dear God. ... Oh, I'm sorry. I was thinking of something else.