Frasier: Aren't people like that sad? Huddled together, totally lacking confidence in their own individuality. And incapable of an original thought. You know, as Dr. Bennett Ludlow once said, "l'll speak no thought but mine own."

Sam: Boy, yeah, you know, you really surprised me here. l... You're a pretty tough negotiator.
Woody: Ah, yeah, Sam, boy, I know you think I'm just a country bumpkin. And the Boyd family may not be too sharp about a lot of things. I mean, we don't know much about math. We don't know much about science. We don't know much about politics. We don't know much about medicine. We don't know much about world affairs, but I'll tell you, there's something we're pretty darned sharp about.
Sam: What's that?
Woody: What were we talking about?
Sam: Machinery.
Woody: Oh, we don't know much about machinery. I'll tell you, my uncle, he lost his arm in some kind of contraption...

Norm: Here we go, Cliffie. Pearson's Garage, Braintree. They can fix anything. All right?
Cliff: Yeah, well, yeah. Thank you very much, Normie.
Woody: You know, my toaster's on the blink. You think they could fix it?
Norm: Well, only if you got one in your car. See, they're auto mechanics, Woody.
Woody: Oh, great, it's in the back seat right now.
Cliff: All right, all right. Take it easy, Norm. The kid's good, but you can take him.
Norm: All right, I have to select my words rather carefully here. Woody, they can fix only those things that originally came with the car when you bought it. As far as I know, cars don't come with toasters.
Woody: Well, mine did. It was part of a promotional campaign. You know, if I'd bought a convertible, I'd have got a food processor.
Norm: Ask for Luis. He doesn't speak English.

Woody: Wait a minute.
Sam: What? What?
Woody: I remember. We were talking about money.
Sam: Oh, that's right. That's right. We were talking about your $50-a-month raise.
Woody: Sam, it was $100 a month. But you know, I'll tell you. I think $100 a month is too steep. I'll settle for $30 a week.
Sam: You got it. Host/manager extraordinaire.

Sam: Oh, come on, Diane. It was just physical. I mean, that stuff doesn't mean anything to me. Come on, don't you see what I'm doing here? I'm just honing my skills for that magical night that you and I hit the sheets running.
Diane: Sam, you and I will couple when 1,000 ice ages have come and gone.
Sam: All right. How soon do we get to play touchy-feely?

Diane: Sam, may I speak to you for a minute? This situation isn't working. Your schemes aren't working, and you're driving Carla and me crazy, and if you continue this entrepreneurial bent of yours, you're going to bankrupt the bar.
Sam: Don't worry about it. I'll think of something.
Diane: Well, I don't know what.
Sam: Well, because you don't have my brain.
Diane: Well, whoever has it should return it. You need it right now.

Frasier: Woody, whisky neat.
Diane: Frasier, what are you doing here? I thought you had a date tonight.
Frasier: I did, but when I showed up, she was in the middle of a shower.
Diane: Well, couldn't you wait?
Frasier: It was her bridal shower. Next time I make a date two months in advance, I'll call to confirm.

Norm: You can't afford yourself as a full-time host/manager.
Sam: No, see, that's the beauty of it. As manager, I'll be thinking up new schemes to bring in more business, but I'll be so darned charming as the host, that people will start bringing in more friends. It's perfect. I'll be thinking and charming all at the same time.
Diane: Add chewing gum, and we can sell tickets.

Sam: Hey, Diane, how you doing there?
Diane: How am I doing? Did you ask me how I'm doing?
Sam: No, not me. That was Woody. He's a ventriloquist. Why? What's the matter?
Diane: Last week...
Sam: Yeah?
Diane: ...we were at passion's portal standing on the threshold of a new and excitingly textured relationship. We were about to open the door on a brand-new beginning for us.
Sam: Well, I knocked at the door, but nobody was home, so I went to the mountains with the girl next door.

Cliff: Good evening, citizens.
Norm: Looking a little beat, buddy. Been staying up late watching those adult movies on cable again?
Cliff: Ah, Ma put a lock on that channel. Uh, it's my paperboy, Normie. He's hitting every place but the front porch. So I got a little plan worked out now. All right, get this, 4:30 tomorrow morning in the a.m., I'm gonna put on the old camouflage jacket, stick a couple of branches behind my ears, and duck in the rhododendron bush. He's smart, but I'm a little bit smarter.
Carla: You talking about the kid or the rhododendron bush?