George: Hey, I think I may have found someone for the scholarship.
Jerry: Yeah?
George: I'm interviewing all these annoying little overachievers, and finally, this kid walks in, Steven Koren, a regular guy, likes sports, watches TV.
Jerry: Is he smart?
George: He knows how to read. And he also knows finishing an entire book doesn't prove anything. And get this. He's into architecture.
Jerry: Hey, just like you pretend to be.
George: Yes. With a little guidance, Steven Koren is going to be everything I claim to be, only for real. That's my dream, Jerry.

George: I don't know what you had to tell her that for. You put me in a very difficult position. Marine Biologist?! I'm very uncomfortable with this whole thing.
Jerry: You know, with all due respect, I would think it's right up your alley.
George: Well, it's not up my alley! It's one thing if I make it up. I know what I'm doing. I know my alleys! You got me in the Galapagos Islands living with the turtles, I don't know where the hell I am.
Jerry: Well, you came in the other day with all that whale stuff, the squeaking and the squealing.
George: Why couldn't you make me an architect? You know I always wanted to pretend that I was an architect.

[stand-up:]
Jerry: See, to me, going to the health club, you see all these people and they're working out, and they're training and they're getting in shape, but the strange thing is nobody is really getting in shape for anything. The only reason that you're getting in shape is that so you can get through the workout. So we're working out, so that we'll be in shape, for when we have to do our exercise. This is the whole thing. The other thing I don't get about it, is why we're so careful about locking up our dirty towels and smelly jock-straps. What exactly is the black market on these disgusting gym clothes? I'll give my car to any valet guy in front of a restaurant because he has a short red jacket. "Yeah, he must be the valet guy." I don't even think about it, but my stinking, putrefied gym clothes, I got one of these locks you could put a bullet through it and it won't open. That stuff is safe.

Jerry: Unfortunately, the immutable laws of physics contradict the whole premise of your account. Allow me to reconstruct this if I may for Miss Benes, as I've heard this story a number of times. Newman, Kramer, if you'll indulge me. According to your story, Hernandez passes you and starts walking up the ramp. Then you say you were struck on the right temple. The spit then proceeds to ricochet off the temple striking Newman between the third and forth rib. The spit then came off the rib, made a right turn, hitting Newman in the right wrist, causing him to drop his baseball cap. The spit then splashed off the wrist, pauses in mid air, mind you, makes a left turn and lands on Newman's left thigh. That is one magic luggie.
Newman: Well, that's the way it happened.

[stand-up:]
Jerry: When you're in your thirties, it's very hard to make a new friend. Whatever the group is that you've got now that's who you're going with. You're not interviewing, you're not looking at any new people, you're not interested in seeing any applications. They don't know the places. They don't know the food. They don't know the activities. If I meet a guy in a club on the gym or someplace, "I'm sure you're a very nice person. You seem to have a lot of potential. But we're just not hiring right now." Of course, when you're a kid, you can be friends with anybody. Remember when you were a little kid what were the qualifications? If someone's in front of my house now, that's my friend. They're my friend. That's it. Are you a grown up? No. Great! Come on in. Jump up and down on my bed. And if you have anything in common at all... "You like Cherry Soda? I like Cherry Soda! We'll be best friends!"