Carla: Making a date with a stranger over the telephone is a big mistake, Diane. I tried it. It was nothing but trouble. Of course, mine was an obscene phone call.

Diane: For the first time in my life, I let appearance taint my feelings toward a man.
Sam: Boy, you know what's wrong with you? You just can't be honest with yourself. Looks are all that ever mattered to you.
Diane: What are you talking about? That is utterly inaccurate.
Sam: Oh, yeah? Want me to prove it to you?
Diane: Yes.
Sam: Who were you more crazy about than anyone else in your entire life? Uh, not including yourself there. Don't answer. It was me. And there was only one reason why you ever went out with me, and that was because of my looks.
Diane: Not entirely.
Sam: Yes, entirely. Name one other reason why anyone would go out with me. Go on, name one. You can't, can you?
Diane: No, Sam, I can't. [Sam laughs; everyone cheers]

Woody: You know, you ought to ask Mr. Clavin. He's very sharp. He's got more information in his whole head than I got in my little finger.
Cliff: Uh, you got that backwards.
Woody: See?

Diane: [to a pair of older customers] I suppose you're wondering why a person of my breeding would be working among the lumpen proletariat. Do you mind? I'm researching a novel, and working here gives me insight into their simple pleasures.
Norm: Oh, wait, wait. They're zooming in on a cheerleader here.
Sam: I think I've zoomed in on that one myself.
Diane: This language supplies the rich texture that distinguished Fitzgerald's work.
Norm: Cliffie, here comes the wave.
[As a Mexican wave goes around the bar, Diane raises from the table]
Diane: Well, you have to go along with them, or they get testy.
[As the Mexican wave returns, Diane and her two customers also raise]
Diane: That's good.

Sam: This is weird. What are you making a big deal about the coat for?
Diane: I was merely trying to conjure up an image of the owner. There's nothing wrong with that. Fantasy's healthy. Everybody does it. Didn't you ever fantasize about me?
Sam: Yeah, I guess I did.
Diane: And I you. What did you fantasize about?
Sam: Mostly that you'd stop using phrases like, "And I you."

Diane: A dried rose. What a romantic. Could this be a memento from a golden midi d'amour in some sylvan setting?
Carla: What's that? A classy way of saying a nooner?

Sam: Oh, come on, Diane. On a scale of one to ten, me being a 12, of course, where are you gonna rate Stuart?
Diane: Let's change that to IQ. While your score would remain 12... his would skyrocket.
Sam: It's too bad you're not gonna be gazing across the table at his IQ.

Diane: Sam, I have never been more grateful to you than I am now. I just looked into the face of insensitivity and dishonesty, and it made me blanch. I am going out there, and I'm going to break up with Stuart. But I'm going to do it honestly, straightforwardly and yet, caringly. I'll tell him the truth of my feelings, that I'm not attracted to him romantically, although I am very attracted to him as a friend. And I'll say it in a way that he will accept and understand and be grateful for. Do you even begin to understand what I'm trying to say?
Sam: Everything except the part where you changed your name to Blanche.
Diane: Goodbye, Sam.
Sam: Goodbye, Blanche.

Woody: Great game.
Cliff: Yeah. Hey, look, they're showing chicks in the stands every-- Oh, look at that one. Come to papa!
Norm: Oh, yeah, yeah, Cliffie, they didn't build that stadium in Foxboro for nothing, pal.
Woody: They sure didn't. I'll bet it cost millions.

Diane: Seeing Baryshnikov dance Giselle was the experience of a lifetime. When he took the stage in his cabriole, it was breathtaking. I'd never seen his Albrecht before.
Woody: You mean he split his tights?
Diane: I wish.