Claudia: Sam.
Sam: Mmm? Yes. Five minutes, we'll be out of here.
Diane: What's this? A date of yours reading Artforum magazine. And it's right side up too.
Sam: Hope this doesn't mean that we're gonna have to talk afterwards.
Diane: Why do I keep trying to communicate with you? It must be the Margaret Mead in me.

Diane: That's a wonderful issue.
Claudia: Yes, it is.
Diane: Did you happen to read their article on Chinese tapestries?
Claudia: Yes, it was fascinating.
Diane: Wasn't it?
Claudia: Yeah, the only problem was that 20 minutes later, I wanted to read it again. [Diane laughs]
Diane: [to Sam] Reads and has a sense of humor. [to Claudia] Did you lose a bet?

Diane: I'm Diane Chambers.
Claudia: Claudia Mitchell.
Diane: So you and Sam are going out?
Claudia: Yes, we're gonna try that new Indian restaurant, Rajah's.
Diane: Oh, I understand their chef is a master of tandoori cooking.
Claudia: Well, I don't really know that much about Indian food. It's the one area where I'm not really able to be pretentious.
Diane: Well, I am, so we have the bases covered. [both laugh]

Cliff: Good Lord. I think that's my father.
Norm: Well, there's still time to slip out the bathroom window.
Cliff: No, no, no. I wanna hear what the rat has to say. Don't let out who I am.
Woody: Can I help you?
Mr. Clavin: Oh, yeah, hi. Do you happen to know Cliff Clavin?
Woody: I, uh... l... Sam, I'm no good under pressure.

Sam: Hi, I'm Sam Malone. I'm the owner of the place.
Mr. Clavin: Oh, hi. I'm Cliff Sr., his father. Uh, I called his ma, she said he hangs out here sometimes. Is he around?
Sam: Well, no. Actually he's not. I think he's away on business.
Norm: Yeah.
Mr. Clavin: Oh, that's too bad. I wanted to talk to him. Gee, it's funny. You know, my own son. I don't even know what he does for a living. I don't even know what he looks like.
Sam: Cliff might be away for a while here. Is there any message you'd like me to give to him?
Mr. Clavin: I think I'll hang around a while. It's kind of personal. I'd like to deliver it myself.
Sam: Oh, yeah, here you go. [gives Mr. Clavin a beer]
Mr. Clavin: Oh, thanks.
Cliff: Excuse me. I got something to say. [clears throat] Could I have the sports page?
Mr. Clavin: Oh, yeah, sure. Here you are.

Claudia: Hey, I have this great idea. Why don't we invite Diane to come with us for dinner.
Sam: What?
Diane: Oh, no, I don't think that'd be a good idea.
Claudia: No, don't be silly. It would be perfect. Diane knows all about Indian food.
Sam: Oh, hey, so do l. I'll order buffalo, you can have the Geronimo burger.

Diane: Claudia, I really don't want to be a third wheel.
Claudia: Yeah, but I want you to come, Diane.
Sam: Yeah, but I want us to be alone.
Claudia: Well, there's plenty of time for that later. Besides, what could you do in a restaurant full of people?
Sam: You'd be surprised.
Diane: Yes, you would.

Mr. Clavin: I kind of think I'm wasting my time here. If Cliffie comes in, tell him I was here. Thanks for the beer.
Norm: [to Cliff] Aren't you gonna say something?
Cliff: I've got nothing to say.
Sam: Mr. Clavin, maybe Cliff will call you later.
Mr. Clavin: Well, he'd better make it fast. I'm leaving tomorrow. Gee, it's too bad. I'd really like to make my peace with the kid. Well, thanks anyway.
Cliff: Hold it right there, Clavin. I'm Cliff Clavin Jr.
Mr. Clavin: You're Cliffie?
Cliff: You wasted your time coming here. After what you've done, there can be no peace between us. Now, hit the bricks.
Mr. Clavin: Cliffie.
Cliff: What?
Mr. Clavin: [puts finger on Cliff's tie] What's that?
Cliff: Where?
Mr. Clavin: [flicks Cliff as he looks down] Gotcha!
Cliff: Oh, Dad, you always knew how to push the right buttons.

Diane: I just can't stop talking about that meal. It was simple and delicate, yet provocative.
Claudia: Well, I never had anything quite like that lamb vindaloo. Great recommendation, Diane.
Woody: How was your meal, Sam?
Sam: The only thing that tasted good at the table turned out later to be a candle.
Claudia: You're not still angry about sitting alone?
Sam: I wasn't alone. You're forgetting about that 300-pound Hindu with the goiter that kept fanning me.

Sam: Hey, Woody, next time you order beer from the distributor, try to be a little more specific than "lots."
Woody: Sorry, Sam.
Sam: That's all right.