Marie: You know, Jill, I think you should take this Rose thing seriously. I'm in therapy, so I know for a fact there are a lot of nuts out there.
Jill: But why would anyone be obsessed with Tim?
Tim: Because I'm very obsessable.
Jill: Oh, Tim. I'm married to you, and I barely think about you.
Tim: Jill, you think this is real funny, don't you? There could be a woman out there fantasizing about me right now.
Jill: Oh, what is she fantasizing, that you come over to her house late at night, bring some wine and blow up her garbage disposal?

Tim: Hey, Wilson.
Wilson: Hi-dee-ho and boo, good neighbor.
Tim: Hey, let me ask you a question. Let's say you wanted my phone number. How would you get it?
Wilson: Well, I already have your phone number.
Tim: I know. What if you didn't have it?
Wilson: I suppose I'd just ask you for it.
Tim: What if you didn't know me?
Wilson: Then why would I want to call you?
Tim: Boy, I wish I was friendly with some of the other neighbors around here.

Tim: "Dear Tim, I'm your biggest fan. I watch you every day and dream about you every night. I hope you like these cookies I baked." You bet I will. "Your admirer, Rose." You know, this is the second letter I've gotten from Rose this week. Did you hear that, Al? She dreams about me every night.
Al: It sounds like she has a sleeping disorder.
Tim: Al, don't be jealous, don't be jealous. You'll get some letters one day. Just change your name to "Occupant."
Al: That wouldn't be necessary, Tim. Heidi, my mail, please.
Heidi: [brings in a wheelbarrow full of envelopes] Here you go, Al.
Al: Thank you, Heidi.
Heidi: You're welcome.
Al: If Tim's face appears green, don't adjust your TV. It's just envy.
Tim: Yeah, but anybody can get letters like that. I got cookies.
Al: Boys! [two men bring in wheelbarrows full of gifts]