George: Let me ask you something. What do you do for a living, Newman?
Newman: I'm a United States postal worker.
George: Aren't those the guys that always go crazy and come back with a gun and shoot everybody?
Newman: Sometimes.
Jerry: Why is that?
Newman: Because the mail never stops. It just keeps coming and coming and coming, there's never a let-up. It's relentless. Every day it piles up more and more and more, and you gotta get it out but the more you get it out the more it keeps coming in. And then the bar code reader breaks and it's Publisher's Clearing House day!

[stand-up:]
Jerry: To me, the thing about old people is that they get smaller. You know, their bodies get smaller. They move into smaller places. They sleep less time. They eat smaller meals. Except the car. The older they get, the bigger their car gets. I've never understood that. And old people have a way of backing out of the driveway. You know what I mean? They don't turn from side to side. They just go, "I'm old. I've been waiting a long time. I'm backing it out." You know? "I'm coming back. Watch out, buddy, I'm coming.", you know. And you've gotta watch out for them. And then once they get out there, they drive so slowly. And I would think the less time you have in life, the faster you would want to go. You know, I think old people should be allowed to drive their age. If you're eighty, do eighty. If you're a hundred, go a hundred. I mean, they can't see where they're going anyway. Let them have a little fun out there.

Ben: No, I feel great for 85.
George: You know, the average life span for an American male is like, 72. You're really... kinda pushing the envelope there.
Ben: I'm not afraid of dying. I never think about it.
George: You don't? Boy, I think about it a lot. I think about it at my age. Imagine how much I'll be thinking about it at your age. All I'll do is keep thinking about it until it drives me insane...
Ben: I'm grateful for every moment I have.
George: Grateful? How can you be grateful when you're so close to the end? When you know that any second... Poof! Bamm-o! It can all be over. I mean you're not stupid, you can read the handwriting on the wall. It's a matter of simple arithmetic, for Gods sake.
Ben: I guess I just don't care.
George: What are you talking about? How can you sit there and look me in the eye and tell that me you're not worried?! Don't you have any sense?!! Don't you have a brain!? Are you so completely senile that you don't know what you're talking about anymore?! [Ben gets up] Wait a second, where are you going?
Ben: Life's too short to waste on you.
George: Wait a minute, please.
Ben: Get out of my way.
George: But Mr. Cantwell, you... You owe me for the soup.