Kramer: Well, the streets are all blocked. I think every Puerto Rican in the world is out here.
Puerto Rican Man: Well, it is our day.
Kramer: Whoo. Wrong car. Sorry.

Kramer: Hey, Jerry. You know who the grand marshal is of this thing? None other than Miss Chita Rivera.
Jerry: They're not letting me in.
George: My hand is out.
Jerry: Well, I think we're gonna need more than a hand. They have to see a human face.
Elaine: You sure you want his face?
Kramer: No, no, no. It was Maria Conchita Alonso.

George: This guy's giving me the stare-ahead.
Jerry: The stare-ahead. I hate that. I use it all the time.
George: Look at me! I am man! I am you!
[When the man looks over, Elaine mouths "Hi. Can we go in?"]
George: All right, he's letting you in. Thank you! Creep.
Kramer: Oh! I know who it is. Stacy Keach.

Lamar: Oh, look who's here. It's my old buddy, black Saab.
Jerry: Maroon Golf.
Lamar: Where you going, black Saab? You seem to be a tad askew.
Jerry: Could you move your car back a little?
Lamar: Oh. Sorry. I seem to have cut you off.
Elaine: All right, I think I know where this is going, and I am going somewhere else.
Jerry: You can't do that. You can't just leave the group.
Elaine: I've been trying to leave this group for 10 years. Vaya con dios.
Kramer: Con dios? Well, that's rude.

Jerry: Can you believe her?
George: Yeah. I'll see you later.
Jerry: Where are you going?
George: The movies. Blimp is playing right there.
Jerry: You're going to that again? Why? Just to do that stupid line?
George: It's a performance, Jerry. Like what you do.
Jerry: That's not what I do.
George: Isn't it?
Jerry: Maybe a little. Ah, hell, I guess it is.

Elaine: Look at that guy's dog. I hate it when their ears get flipped inside out like that. Why doesn't he fix it? [yelling out the cabbie's window] Hey! Fold your dog's ear back!

Man: Gimme a box of those and one of those.
George: Excuse me, are you the guy with that funny laser?
Man: The laser's not funny. I'm funny.
George: Yeah. The thing is, I, uh...I had this little zinger of my own I wanted to try.
Man: Uh-huh.
George: It's right in the explosion scene. So if you could just, leave me a little window. You know, my, uh, my aunt had a thing removed with a laser. All right, I don't want to interrupt your meal, so...

Jerry: We're not leaving the car!
Kramer: All right. If you refuse to grow up and scam your insurance company, you'll have to work this out with maroon Golf.
Jerry: Absolutely not. He sped up.
Announcer: [on radio] Swung on, line hard toward left center field. That's in the gap, that's a base hit.
Jerry: I'm ready to talk.

Woman #1: Hey! There's that laser guy again.
Woman #2: He's funny. I never meet anyone funny.
Woman #1: I know. A sense of humor is so much more important to me than looks or hair.
Woman #2: Mmm, yeah.
[As there's an explosion on the screen, the laser pointer darts around. The audience laugh.]
George: That's gotta hurt!
[The audience falls silent]
George: It's gotta hurt! Hurt! Because... argh! [stands up] Damn you, laser guy! You had to grab it all with your lowbrow laser shtick! You're just a prop comic! Where's the craft?!
[The laser guy points it on George's head]
Woman #1: Look! It's on the bald guy.
Woman #2: I am so glad we came to this showing.

Kramer: Okay, here's the deal. He wants you to acknowledge that you cut him off with an "I am sorry" wave.
Jerry: What's that?
Kramer: You raise the hand, lower the head - "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. The buttons are really big on the car. I don't understand it. I haven't read the manual. Ooh!" You get my drift.
Jerry: Okay. [does the wave]
Lamar: "Hallelujah. Praise the lord." But I'll take it.
Kramer: Yes! All right, Lamar, back it up a little bit so we can get out now.