Frasier: Lilith, I promise I will never say another word about inducing labor.
Lilith: Thank you.
Frasier: [shouts at Lilith's stomach] Boo!
Lilith: Frasier, it's not hiccups. You can't scare it out.
Rebecca: My God, Lilith, you still haven't delivered that child yet?
Lilith: No, I haven't, Rebecca.
Frasier: Lilith's logic is that if she can keep clenching long enough, we may bypass the terrible twos.

Rebecca: Your Honor, I can assure you that is not typical of our clientele here. Most of the people that come in here are... Well, they're professionals.
Frasier: You know, I'm beginning to wonder if you're fit to carry my seed.
Lilith: I'm beginning to wish you'd kept it.
Rebecca: Aren't they fun?

Frasier: I've parked my car in that damn red zone a thousand times! They pick today to tow my car away!
Sam: Listen, I've got my car outside. I'll give you a lift.
Frasier: All right, dear, just be brave. Think lovely, simple, wonderful thoughts.
Lilith: Uh... Novocaine. Codeine. Demerol... Whoa! Whiskey. Rum. Wah! Knock me unconscious with a mallet!

Woody: Look at that baby go. "The Wabash Cannonball."
Cliff: Yes, sir, with two mail cars... [train whistle]... serving the citizens of this great land, Woody.
Norm: Cliffy, come on, man. I laid track for you, I helped you with the wiring. When do I get to handle the controls?
Cliff: When I think you're good and ready there, young man.
Woody: That's right, Mr. Peterson. When we think you're good and ready. Hey, Carla, check this out. Mr. Clavin came up with a great idea for this railroad I think you're really going to like.
Carla: Does it involve tying him to the tracks with a stick of dynamite in his mouth?
Cliff: Now look, Carla, this baby is a great labor-saving device. You'll see. Now, why don't you just sit right on over there and pretend that you're a customer?
Woody: So, what will you have, Missy?
Carla: Gee, I love role playing. May I have a beer, please, Mr. Bartender?
Woody: One brew coming right up!
[Woody places the beer on an flatbed carriage and Cliff sends the train running down the bar]
Cliff: All right, now, Norm, take heed here. It takes a steady hand to man the throttle.
Norm: Yeah, but it only takes one finger to throw a switch.
[After Norm presses a button, the train switches from a track heading to Carla to a dead-end that sees the beer stop in front Norm]
Norm: Last stop. Everybody off.

Rebecca: Well, anyway, I got to tell you, I'm going to make the most of this centennial thing. I already have Woody at the library doing research. And I think we'll all dress in gay '90s costumes.
Sam: Oh, no, no, no, no.
Rebecca: Oh, yes, yes, yes.
Sam: We'll going to spend the entire week celebrating the fabulous 100 years of Cheers.
Norm: Oh, those centennial things are so dorky.
Rebecca: I actually think I'll roll back the prices to 1889 prices. Like, beer would be 5 cents a glass.
Norm: All right. Dork line forms right behind me.

Carla: Oh, look who's here. It's Wimpy and Blimpy. You haven't popped that kid yet, huh?
Frasier: Oh, no, no, no. Lilith had the baby weeks ago. We just decided to put it back in for old times' sake.
Lilith: Frasier, don't snipe. People are interested.
Frasier: Oh, all right, I'll behave. I'm guess I'm just a little overanxious to finally see the slimy little rat.

Rebecca: A-ha! Mayor Flynn's office loves the idea. He's not only going to name next Saturday Cheers day, he may also come here in person to present us with a special plaque. Oh, Woody! I'm glad you're back. What did you find out at the library?
Woody: Oh, a bunch of stuff. Like, they have story hour every Tuesday and Thursday. The fine for overdue books is 10 cents a day, and you can't yell out things like, "Wow, 10 cents a day?"
Rebecca: Woody, I mean what did you find out about the history of this place?
Woody: Nothing much.
Rebecca: Really?
Woody: Just pulling your chain... Yank, yank.

Rebecca: People, will you help me here? I'm trying to create a turn-of-the-century mood.
Norm: So am l. Sammy, here's 5 bucks. Can I have a hundred beers, please?

Rebecca: You know, everything's coming out pretty good. The mayor's on his way. The 5 o'clock news is going to send a camera team. Oh, and I see my singers are here.
Sam: Yeah, thanks a lot for that. Now I have to put up with barbershop all day. I hate barbershop.
Woody: Where do you get your hair cut, Sam?
Sam: [hands Woody a card] Here. Tell them Sam sent you.

Cliff: Uh, excuse me, Mr. Mayor. We haven't had the honor yet. I'm somebody who sort of writes you about once a week. You might remember the name. Cliff Clavin?
Mayor Raymond Flynn: Clavin. Clavin. Why does that name ring a bell?
Male Aide: Your Honor. [whispering]
Mayor Raymond Flynn: Oh, my God. He's the one.
Female Aide See if he's armed.
[A policeman tackles Cliff]
Cliff: There's got to be a mistake here. I mean, I'm not a fanatic. I'm a member of the U.S. Postal Service.
Mayor Raymond Flynn: Yep, he's the guy all right.
Cliff: What are you talking about? You're just miffed because you didn't get an inaugural fruitcake on your election. Well, you can hold your breath, pal, 'cause when I get out of jail... [is dragged out]
Sam: Excuse me, Your Honor, we've known Cliff Clavin for a long time. He's OK.
Female Aide: So you don't think he could snap and become violent?
Norm: Uh... Well, OK might be too strong of a word.