Norm: Well, where the hell is this guy? He said he'd be here in 15 minutes. It's been nearly 20. Doesn't he realize this is an emergency?
Sam: Hey, calm down, will you Norm? He'll be here.
Norm: Well, it's a hell of a world we live in, Sam. We can put a man on the moon okay, but we can't get a beer tap repairman here in a reasonable amount of time.
Sam: Norm, sit down! Just relax. Why, why don't you have a, have a bottle of beer?
Norm: [scoffs] Yeah, right, a bottle. It's just not the same, Sam.
Woody: Well, I'm sure Mr. Clavin would let you have some of his beer.
Cliff: Well, I'm afraid not, Woody. No, no, you see, we, we knew that the taps were gonna be out of service for a while, Sam made an announcement. So I took a moment to figure out that if I take just a little sip every now and again, it would last until the repairman fixes yon tap. But, when I suggested the strategy to Mr. Peterson, he called me well, what was it you called me again, Norm?
Norm: Bozo.
Cliff: Right. I'm a bozo. I'm, uh, gonna go to the men's room now, okay. Excuse me.
Norm: Oh, right, and you're gonna take your beer with you? Come on, Cliff. We've been friends for 15 years. I'm so pathetic, you think I'm gonna steal my best friend's beer, huh?
Cliff: Yeah, you're right, Normie. I trust you.
[As Cliff saunters off to the bathroom, Norm downs his beer]
Norm: Bozo.

Sam: Have you noticed that, uh, someone in this bar is getting a little looney?
Frasier: Sam, everyone in this bar is on a connecting flight to beyond looney.

Sam: Carla, strictly hypothetically, would you marry me?
Carla: Sammy, that's a stupid question.
Sam: Well, I know it is.
Carla: Not in a million years!
Sam: What?
Carla: Oh, Sammy. Nobody loves you as much as I do. But I know you! You know, we'd be taking our wedding vows, and you'd be checking out the bridesmaids. You're a hound. I can't marry a hound.
Sam: Hey, I thought we had something special going on between us.
Carla: Definitely, we do. I just always thought that I'd be the woman you cheated on your wife with. Call me a hopeless romantic.

Sam: Honey, that smells of desperation. You don't- You don't need that. You deserve the greatest guy in the world. Oh, God. Oh, God. I don't believe I'm about to say this. Sit down, sit down. Listen, I've been doing a doing a lot of thinking recently about marriage and settling down and stuff.
Rebecca: Yeah?
Sam: [chuckles] I can't believe this. My hands are sweating.
Rebecca: Come on, Sam, go on with what you were saying.
Sam: Oh I... I just think that you and I...
Rebecca: Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute. You're not saying what I think you're saying, are you?
Sam: You know, I think there's a chance for you and me if...
Rebecca: If... If what?
Sam: All right, all right, here goes... If, in the next couple of years, the right woman doesn't come along, you're on the top of a very short list. [off Rebecca's look] I know, I can't believe I'm saying this, either!
Rebecca: God, this is incredible. This... Y- You are saying that you will marry me if someone better doesn't come along?
Sam: Is it mind-blowing or what?

Frasier: Well, all right, okay, okay. But if it does bother you, you're perfectly capable of making a change. You can reinvent Sam Malone. You know, this could be a turning point for you in your life. Listen, I'm going to write down the number of a man. His name is Dr. Robert Sutton. And he has a therapy group for sexual compulsives.
Sam: Well, what are- What are you saying? I'm hooked on sex?
Frasier: [chuckles] Well, let's face it Sam. It consumes you. Look, be honest. How long do you think you could go without thinking about sex?
Sam: As long as I want. Fine, go ahead. Time me.
Frasier: All right, start now.
Sam: How long was that?
Frasier: About a second.
Sam: Well, is, is that normal?
Frasier: For a rabbit!

Dr. Sutton: We've just been going around the room, telling a little bit about ourselves. And why don't we continue with you? Let's start with your name. First name only, please.
Sam: All right, uh, [clears throat] My name is Steve.
All: Hi, Steve.
Sam: Uh, well, uh, I'm... I'm starting off on the wrong foot, here. Uh, my real name is not Steve. It's Bob.
All: Hi, Bob.
Sam: I can't believe I'm doing this. l, uh... I'm really embarrassed. My name isn't Bob, either. It's, uh, it's Sam. [silence] No, really, it is. It's Sam.
All: Hi, Sam.

Carla: Hi. My name is Carla.
Don: Hi. Don.
Carla: Yeah, I know, I read it off your left pec. If you, uh, have anything else written on your body, I'm looking for something to read in bed.
Sam: Will you let the man do his job please, Carla?
Carla: I know Braille.

Frasier: Oh, say, Rebecca, maybe I misunderstood you earlier. I thought the purpose of your trip wasn't to snare a husband.
Rebecca: Well, of course it wasn't.
Woody: Why'd you go?
Rebecca: Woody, I was very clear about why I went before I left. Don't you remember?
Woody: No.
Rebecca: I said that I went to find myself, to look myself square in the eye and find out who I really was, yada, yada, yada.
Woody: Oh, yeah. I remember the yada, yada, yada part.
Rebecca: Half way through the trip, I realized something- that my life is doo-doo.
Woody: Please, Miss Howe. You may have used that kind of language at sea, but we're not in the boiler rooms among sailors.

Frasier: Rebecca, excuse me for interrupting, but may I ask you a question? Do you listen to yourself?
Rebecca: Well, sometimes.
Frasier: All right, not two minutes ago, you announced to the bar that you were opening yourself up to men from any walk of life. Now, that man seems attractive, decent, and most of all, interested in you. You're lonely, desperate, and if the bloom isn't off the rose just yet, you can certainly hear pruning shears approaching.
Rebecca: He is kind of cute, isn't he? Actually, he's just what I was describing. Can you belie- Is that just like me or what? It's like, I'm just standing here blathering on and on and on and on and on, while opportunity is just passing me by... It's like life is a parade.
Frasier: Rebecca! Rebecca, fetch!
Rebecca: Oh, sorry, yoo-hoo, Mr. Burley Working Type Guy, hold up a second.

Carla: Look at her, throwing herself at him. No class. No class at all.
Rebecca: I just went on a service call with Don. He was unplugging a drain. We got to... We got to... We got to eat out of his lunch pail, and then I got to hand him his tools out of his tool belt.
Carla: He wears a tool belt? Oh, man, why don't you just spit on my grave.