[stand-up:]
Jerry: Waiting room. I hate when they make you wait in the room. 'cause it says "Waiting room." There's no chance of not waiting, 'cause they call it the waiting room. They're going to use it. They've got it. It's all set up for you to wait. And you sit there, you know, and you've got your little magazine. You pretend you're reading it, but you're really looking at the other people. You know, you're thinking about about them things like "I wonder what he's got." "As soon as she goes, I'm getting her magazine." And then, they finally call you and it's a very exciting moment. They finally call you, and you stand up and you kinda look around at the other people in the room. "Well, I guess I've been chosen. I'll see you all later." You know, so you think you're going to see the doctor, but you're not, are you? No. You're going into the next waiting room. The littler waiting room. But if they are, you know, doing some sort of medical thing to you, you want to be in the smallest room that they have, I think. You don't want to be in the largest room that they have. You know what I mean? You ever see these operating theaters, that they have, with like, stadium seating? You don't want them doing anything to you that makes other doctors go, "I have to see this!" "Are you kidding? Are they really gonna do that to him?" "Are there seats? Can we get in?" Do they scalp tickets to these things? "I got two for the Winslow tumor, I got two.."

Jerry: So forget about the books. Did you read them?
George: Well, yeah.
Jerry: What do you need them for?
George: I don't know. They're books.
Jerry: What is this obsession people have with books? They put them in their houses like they're trophies. What do you need it for after you read it?
George: They're my books.

Jerry: So, how was it?
George: I was in there for two minutes. He didn't do anything. Touch this, feel that. Seventy-five bucks.
Jerry: Well, it's a first visit.
George: What's seventy-five bucks? What, am I seeing Sinatra in there?! Am I being entertained? I don't understand this. I'm only paying half.
Jerry: You can't do that.
George: Why not?
Jerry: He's a doctor. You gotta pay what he says.
George: Oh, no, no, no. I pay what I say.

[stand-up:]
Jerry: I'm always in traffic with the lane expert. You know this type of person? Constantly reevaluating their lane choice.. Never quite sure, "Is this the best lane for me? For my life?" They're always a little bit ahead of you, "Can I get in over there? Could I get in over here? Could I get in there?" "Yeah, come on over here, pal. We're zoomin' over here. This is the secret lane, nobody knows about it.." The ultimate, I think the ultimate psychological test of traffic is the total dead stop. Not even rolling. And you look out the window, you can see gum clearly. So we know that in the future traffic will get even worse than that. I mean, what will happen? Will it start moving backwords, I wonder? I mean, is that possible? That someday we'll be going "Boy, this is some really bad traffic now, boy. This, is really bad. I'm gonna try to get off and get back on going the other way."

Elaine: Tell me if you think this is strange: There's this guy who lives in my building, who I was introduced to a couple of years ago by a friend. He's a teacher, or something. Anyway, after we met, whenever we'd run into each other on the street, or in the lobby, or whatever, we would stop and we would chat a little bit. Nothing much. Little pleasantries. He was a nice guy, he's got a family... Then after a while, I noticed there was not more stopping. Just saying hello and continuing on our way. And then the verbal hellos stopped, and we just went into these little sort of nods of recognition. So, fine, I figured, that's where this relationship is finally gonna settle: polite nodding. Then one day, he doesn't nod. Like I don't exist?! He went from nods to nothing.
George: [sings] "You know, I'd go from nods to nothing.."
Elaine: And now, there's this intense animosity whenever we pass. I mean, it's like we really hate each other. It's based on nothing.
Jerry: A relationship is an organism. You created this thing and then you starved it so it turned against you. Same thing happened in The Blob.

Jerry: It's too far.
Kramer: It's three blocks further. You can use my shopping cart..
Jerry: I'm not pulling a shopping cart. What am I suppose to wear? A kerchief? Put stockings on and roll 'em down below my knee?
Kramer: See, the other thing is, if you don't like anything, he takes it right back.
Jerry: I don't return fruit. Fruit is a gamble. I know that going in.

Jerry: I don't know how this happened.
George: Jerry, it's not my fault.
Jerry: No, no. It's not your fault. Books, books, I need my books. Have you re-read those books yet, by the way? You know the great thing? When you read Moby Dick the second time, Ahab and the whale become good friends.

[stand-up:]
Jerry: Women need to like the job of the guy they're with. If they don't like the job, they don't like the guy. Men know this. Which is why we make up the phony bogus names for the jobs that we have. "Well, right now, I'm the regional management supervisor." "I'm in development, research, consulting." Men on the other hand, if they are physically attracted to a woman are not that concerned with her job. Are we? Men don't really care. Men'll just go, "Really? Slaughterhouse? Is that were you work? That sounds interesting. So what do you got a big cleaver there? You're just lopping their heads off? That sounds great! Listen, why don't you shower up, and we'll get some burgers and catch a movie."

George: It just didn't work out. What can I do? I wanted to love her. I tried to love her. I couldn't.
Jerry: You tried.
George: I kept looking at her face. I'd go: "Come on, love her. Love her!"
Jerry: Did you tell her you loved her?
George: Oh, I had no choice. She squeezed it out of me! She'd tell me she loved me. All right, at first, I just look at her. I'd go "Oh, really?" or "Boy, that's, that's something." But, eventually you have to come back with "Well, I love you." You know, you can only hold out for so long!"
Jerry: You're a human being.
George: And I didn't even ask her out. She asked me out first. She called me up. What was I supposed to do? Say no? I can't do that to someone.
Jerry: You're too nice a guy.
George: I am. I'm a nice guy... And she seduced me! We were in my apartment, I'm sitting on the couch, she's on the chair, I get up to go to the bathroom, I come back, she's on the couch. What am I supposed to do? Not do anything? I couldn't do that. I would've insulted her.
Jerry: You're flesh and blood.
George: I had nothing to do with any of this! I met all her friends, I didn't want to meet them. I kept trying to avoid it. I knew it would only get me in deeper. But they were everywhere! They kept popping up, all over the place. "This is Nancy, this is Susan, this is Amy... This is my cousin... This is my brother.. This is my father." It's like I'm in quicksand.
Jerry: I told you when I met her..

Elaine: Hey, what are you doing?
George: I'm letting you in.
Elaine: Oh, no. No, I don't want to sit in the back. I'll be left out of the conversation.
George: No, you won't.
Elaine: Yes, I will, George. I'll have to sick my chin on top of the seat.
George: Okay. [gets out]
Elaine: Why can't you sit in the middle?
George: Please, it doesn't look good. Boy, boy, girl.
Elaine: I think you're afraid to sit next to a man. You're a little homophobic, aren't you?
George: Is it that obvious?