Cliff: Hey, hold on there, sport.
Mail Man: Yeah?
Cliff: As you can see, I'm wearing the colors myself here. And as most veteran postal carrier, I can only say I'm shocked and dismayed.
Mail Man: Sir?
Cliff: Department policy regarding uniform states, son, and I quote, "Uniform should be buttoned up to and including the second button from the collar of said shirt." You're letting us down, son.
Mail Man: I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean any harm.
Cliff: It's all right, son. I was green once, too. You'll make it.
Mail Man: Thank you, sir. I'll try to do better.
Cliff: Carry on.
Coach: Here's your beer, Cliff.
Mail Man: Cliff? Say, you're not, by any chance, Cliff Clavin?
Cliff: Sure am. You heard of me?
Mail Man: Your name is kind of a symbol around our branch office.
Cliff: Is that right?
Mail Man: Yeah, well, like, just the other day I messed up and my supervisor told me to get my head out of my Clavin.

Coach: I like him. He's funny.
Cliff: Coach, the rest of us are laughing out of pity at the man's ugliness. He looks like one of those gnarled, grotesque creatures you might find in a cave 22 miles beneath the sea.
Coach: Come to think of it, he didn't say where he was from.

Diane: You know what I hate about working here?
Carla: I know what I hate about working here, but it couldn't be the same thing.

Diane: Sam says his Uncle Nathan in Vermont just died.
Coach: Yep, he sure did.
Diane: Do you believe that?
Coach: Well, of course, Diane. I mean, they wouldn't make funeral arrangements if the man wasn't dead. I think they've got a test for that.
Carla: Hey, Coach, why don't you tell Diane the truth? There is no Uncle Nathan.
Coach: Right. Sam's accepted it, so we all have to.

Diane: How long were your aunt and Uncle Nathan married?
Sam: How long? Uh, why- I don't- Uh, 50... 40, 50 years. I don't know.
Diane: My, my, my. It must be very hard on her.
Sam: Oh, yeah. Oh, just imagine. OK. I'm off now.
Diane: Sam, do you know what the secret of a long-lasting relationship is?
Sam: No, I don't, Diane, but I will think about it as I drive along, okay?
Diane: It's honesty, Sam. Once honesty leaves a relationship, the relationship is over. Finished. Empty. For example, if one of us were to lie to the other now, it would be a crime of the soul. A death of a spirit. Our lives would be diminished beyond redemption.
Sam: Diane, this is not one of the world's great goodbyes here.
Diane: [laughs] Of course. You'd better go. Be careful. There'll be a lot of skiers on the road and you know how insensitive people on their way to a ski weekend can be.
Sam: Okay, okay. [exits]
[Sam stops for a moment on the steps as he considers Diane's words]

Carla: You're hanging by your fingernails, honey.
Diane: He'll be back before last call tonight. [Coach laughs]
Carla: You don't believe her either, huh, Coach?
Coach: No, Carla. I've got feathers in my shoes. I don't know how a chicken keeps a straight face.

Cliff: So where's Rootie Kazootie?
Norm: George? Hmm, the guy turned out to be a real jerk. He saw some friends of his at the game, right? At the end of the first period, he goes and sits with them and leaves me there.
Cliff: Well, it happens, Norm. You know, friend turns against friend.
Norm: Yeah, I guess so. Want to goshoot some pool?
Cliff: What? You want to shoot pool with me? Hey, everybody, Norm has deigned to ask me to shoot pool with him. Oh, Normie, Normie. Do I have time to get down on my knees and thank the very God I pray to that you've selected me?
Norm: OK, but hurry. I don't have much... We shouldn't lose that table there.
Cliff: Oh, Norm, I just hope I can be as delightful and effervescent a companion as you're used to.
Norm: Okay, this is like sarcasm, right?
Cliff: Yeah, you're a real tack, Norm.

Sam: It was three miles away from my aunt's house. Three miles, and all of a sudden it came to me. Ski weekend, huh, am I right?
Diane: I'm sorry, Sam, I'm a little confused. What ski weekend?
Sam: Oh, come on. Somebody probably told you that I used to go skiing with my buddies on this weekend.
Diane: Now that you mention it, I believe Carla said something about that.
Sam: I knew it. I knew it.
Diane: Coach, two draughts.
Sam: And all of a sudden, because of that, you decide that I'm lying about my Uncle Nathan, huh?
Diane: Well, for a moment there, I was a trifle suspicious.
Sam: That is totally, totally silly, honey. That ski weekend is part of my past. Hey, come on. What kind of guy with a swell chick like yourself would go fool around? Anyway, even when I was on that ski weekend, I didn't fool around that much. So even if I were, um, I wouldn't be doing what you think and I'm not, so it's less. Or none. So you feel OK now?
Diane: I was never not OK.

Sam: Okay, let's you and me stop playing games, huh?
Carla: Alms? Alms for the dink.
Coach: Poor devil.
Sam: Hey, would you just leave me alone, please? All of you. You know, I was almost up there this time before it hit me. You don't believe me. I know it. You don't believe me. I think that is rotten. Really rotten. [groans]
Diane: Sam, I've never seen you act this crazy. And it's so late now, you're even going to miss your Uncle's funeral tomorrow.
Sam: Well, just tell me, how do you expect me to enjoy a funeral when you're making me nuts like this, huh?
Diane: I don't know what you're talking about.
Sam: Like hell you don't. Every time I walk through that door, you say some little thing to make me drive all the way back down here. You know, I've been on that road so many times, they changed the sign to "Welcome To Vermont, Sam".

Diane: That's it. I've had enough. I don't care what you do. I just don't want to have to look at your big, flabby face any more. You can fool around with every women in Vermont. I don't care.
Sam: Is that a fact? Well, let me tell you something, that's exactly what I'm going to do. I'm going to go and I'm going to have every girl in Vermont. Even the bowsers.
Diane: Go. By all means, go. Have all New England for all I care.
Sam: Maybe I'll just do that.
Diane: Just mull this over on your ride up to paradise. There happens to be a certain box boy at my market. A sinewy youth who always wants to carry my bags, if you know what I mean. Perhaps, just perhaps, I'll go over there tomorrow and not demur at his subtle, yet oh-so-unequivocal advances.
Sam: [chuckles] Yeah, you do that, Diane, and I'll try real hard to give a damn. [exits]
Coach: Holy mackerel. I forgot to ask him about the olives.
Carla: Don't worry, he'll be back in ten minutes.
Norm: I say five, Carla.
Diane: Maybe even sooner.
Sam: [opens the door] A box boy?!