George: Elaine, this pilot, it doesn't matter to me. It's not me I'm concerned about. It's my mother. I've been over to the hospital to see her...
Elaine: Oh yeah, because she caught you jer-
George: Never mind!

Jerry: Listen, Elaine, if Russell mentions anything about the pilot, you'll of course tell him how much you liked it...?
Elaine: You know, I happen to have the script right here with me and, uh... [clears throat] On page 3, for example, suppose the Elaine character comes in wearing a... a low-cut dress. And the butler is very distracted, and can't work.
Jerry: Uh... That kind of comedy, that's a little broad for us.
Elaine: Well, I'm sure it's right up Russell's alley.
George: Well, it's a funny idea.
Jerry: It's funny!
George: Come on, funny is funny.
Jerry: Funny is funny. We're here to entertain, right?
Elaine: All right. Well, maybe I'll mention it to Russell tomorrow night.
Jerry: If you can.
George: Yeah. Where's he taking you, by the way?
Elaine: Bouchard's, on 53rd. [George chokes on his drink]
Jerry: I think what he's trying to say is, "Get the bouillabaisse."

[stand-up:]
Jerry: Men are obsessed with cleavage. Women are obsessed with shoes. It's the same for both sexes. It doesn't matter how many times we've seen these things, every time these objects are presented to us... We have to look. We cannot not look. To men, cleavage is the closet thing to a nearby UFO landing. That's what it is. Women, if women buy a pair of shoes that they really love, then this is like boarding the alien ship. I think it's entirely possible that aliens have landed and they haven't been able to get our attention because we're so preoccupied with cleavage and shoes.

Molly: Hello.
Jerry: Hi.
George: Hi.
Molly: I'm Molly.
Jerry: I'm Jerry.
George: George.
Jerry: We're here discussing our script with your father.
George: He just read it. [Russell vomits again]
Molly: Daddy? Are you okay?
Russell: [o.s.] Yeah, sweetie. I'm fine.
George: So, you live with your mother, huh?
Molly: Uh, yeah.
George: Divorce is very difficult. Especially on a kid. Of course, I'm the result of my parents having stayed together, so you never know.

Molly: Daddy, are you all right? What's the matter?
Russell: It's just a stomach thing.
Molly: Yuck.
Russell: [to Jerry and George] We're going to have to do this some other time, so if you'll give me your number, I'll call you later.
George: You know, suddenly I'm in the mood for pasta primavera myself.

Elaine: Here's your ketchup back. You know, I had the hardest time trying to get some out. I mean, I just kept pounding and pounding on the bottom of it. Do you have any trouble?
Russell: [not looking up] No.
Elaine: Do you have a...ketchup secret?
Russell: No, I... [finally looks up] Don't have a ketchup secret. [smiles]
Elaine: Because if you do have a ketchup secret, I would really, really like to know what it is. [laughs, walks back to her table with Russell still entranced]
Russell: [to Jerry and George] Field of vision, huh?

Jerry: If you hadn't gone into her restaurant, this never would have happened.
Elaine: Look, I don't like people talking about my shoes behind my back, okay? My shoes are my business. The two of you shouldn't have been looking at some fifteen year-old's cleavage anyway!
George: He poked me!
Jerry: There was cleavage in the area. That's a reflex. Cleavage, poke. Cleavage, poke...
Elaine: But she was fifteen.
Jerry: You don't consider age in the face of cleavage. This occurs on a molecular level, you can't control it! We're like some kind of weird fish where the eyes operate independently of the head.

Jerry: What were you doing?
George: Well, it's not my fault. You poked me!
Jerry: You're supposed to just take a peek after a poke. You were like you just put a quarter into one of those big metal things on top of the Empire State Building.
George: It's cleavage. I couldn't look away. What am I, waiting to win an Oscar here? This is all I have in my life.
Jerry: Looking at cleavage is like looking at the sun, you don't stare at it. It's too risky. You get a sense of it and then you look away.
George: All right. So, he caught me in a cleavage peek, so big deal. Who wouldn't look at his daughter's cleavage? She's got nice cleavage.
Jerry: That's why I poked.
George: That's why I peeked.

Jerry: You know what we could do? He eats at that restaurant, Pfeiffer's? We could have Gail call us, tell us the next time he's there, go there and talk to him.
George: Hey, now you're onto something.
Jerry: The whole thing is so stupid. Like he wouldn't do the same thing if Elaine walked by in a low-cut dress.
George: Yeah. Well, maybe not Elaine, but...somebody like Gail, though.
Elaine: What? What do you mean, Gail?

Jerry: Hey! What do you know!
George: Look who's here!
Jerry: Fancy meeting you here!
Russell: Oh. Hello.
George: Pasta primavera! Back on the horse.
Jerry: You know, it's a funny thing, because after the pilot got cancelled, we hadn't heard from you.
George: Didn't hear anything...
Jerry: Didn't know... We were wondering what happened.
Russell: It just didn't seem to be the right project for us right now. [Elaine walks by in a low-cut dress, catching Jerry and George's attention] So, what were you saying?
George: Oh... Uh, because if it had anything at all to do with what you perceived as me leering at your daughter, I really have to take issue with that. I did not leer. Did I leer?
George: No leer.