Woody: How does that go again?
Lilith: Hoo hoo hoo! Hee hee hee!
Both: Hee hee hee! Hoo hoo hoo. Hee hee hee.
Sam: Woody, Woody, Woody, take it easy. Don't let Lilith hyperventilate there.
Lilith: Hoo hoo hee...
[The Mayor catches Woody as he's about to faint]
Sam: Good boy.

Sam: I telephoned your parents, told them you had a boy. They are thrilled to death. Although your father did ask twice who the hell I was.
Gail Aldrich: Thanks. You are both so sweet.
Sam: Yeah, but I'm sweeter, right?
Frasier: Excuse me. I can't wait to share this miracle with Lilith. Well, I better not disturb her now. She and the baby are resting... Whoa! Who is that?
Lilith: Your son.
Frasier: My son? A boy? I'm a father. Sam, I have a son.
Sam: Congratulations.
Frasier: He looks just exactly like me.
Sam: Oh, don't worry about that. All babies look like that at first.

Lilith: Frasier, I'm not clenching. The child is simply not ready to be born.
Frasier: Lilith, the child is two weeks overdue.
Woody: Boy, two weeks overdue? Why, you'd be out $1.40 at the library.

Sam: Where is everybody?
Norm: Oh, well, the party kinda got out of hand after Rebecca wrestled the 5 o'clock news guy to the ground and ripped all the tape out of his camera.
Sam: How about Cliff? How's he doing?
Norm: I think they're still interrogating him downtown. But Carla went after him.
Sam: To bail him out?
Norm: No, to poke things at him through the bars. But don't worry, Sammy. I've watched the bar. I've kept very careful track of how many beers I've had.
Sam: Yeah.
Norm: I think this is, um... Two.
Sam: Yeah, right.

Barbershop Quartet: [sing] In town Back in town...
Woody: That was fantastic. Aren't you guys supposed to have a monkey?

Rebecca: All right, guys, does this look like 1889? Hey! Didn't we agree to all wear costumes?
Carla: Uh-huh.
Rebecca: Well, why didn't you? Look at me. I'm the only one. I look like an idiot.
Carla: That's why.

Mr. Weaver: Miss Howe?
Rebecca: [gasps] Oh, goody, goody! It's my special guest. Hey, everybody, I want you to meet Mr. Weaver. [voice breaking] Come in, Mr. Weaver. [excited] Sam, I'd like you to meet Mr. Weaver. He's over 106 years old.
Sam: Really? Well, you don't look it... I guess. I mean, who would know, huh?
Rebecca: The reason Mr. Weaver's our guest of honor today is because he used to live in this neighborhood. do you get it? He was here when Cheers opened.
Norm: Big deal. I'm always here when Cheers opens.
Rebecca: I mean originally. Mr. Weaver confirmed that there was a beer tavern here in 1889. This man is a living treasure. [The old man leans in towards Rebecca] Hey, wait a minute. Did you just pinch me?
Mr. Weaver: Did l? [slaps his own wrist] Bad boy.
Carla: Hey! Hey, Mac, pinch me again, and you won't live to 107.
Barbershop Quarter: [sing] Wish you...
Carla: You shut up!

Rebecca: Oh, my God, it's him! It's the mayor.
Sam: Hey, it really is the mayor. Hi.
Rebecca: And look, he's got a little plaque.
Woody: Well, he's probably too busy to brush between meals.
Sam: No.

Rebecca: How do you do, Your Honor? I'm Rebecca Howe. Welcome to Cheers' 100th anniversary. Please, come in. Meet my staff. This is Sam Malone. This is Woody Boyd. Carla LeBec, the mayor.
Carla: Pleased to meet you. So what's with all the potholes on my street?
Rebecca: Carla...
Carla: It's all right. I voted for him twice, in the same election.
Mayor Raymond Flynn: Uh, I'm sure you're joking, but I'll look into those potholes for you.

Rebecca: Oh, Your Honor, wait, wait. I would like you to meet Mr. Weaver. Mr. Weaver is over 106 years old. And still very active. Carla. Would you please show Mr. Weaver our relaxing and lovely billiards lounge?
Carla: Let's go, pops, put your hands in your pockets and walk 5 feet in front of me.