Sam: Hey what's going on, Normie?
Norm: It's my birthday Sammy. Give me a beer, stick a candle in it, and I'll blow out my liver.

Sam: Hey, any of you guys tried that new steakhouse on Commonwealth?
Norm: No.
Sam: It's great. Beautiful waitresses in tiny little wench outfits.
Norm: Yeah, what did you have?
Sam: Beautiful waitress in a tiny little wench outfit. I'm going back too.

Sam: Hey, have a good life.
Diane: Have a good life?
Sam: What?
Diane: Well, that's something you say when somethings over. Sam, I'm going away for six months. That's all. So no more of this 'Have a good life' stuff.
Sam: You never know. You could die, I could die, the world could end. One of us could bump our heads and wander the streets the rest of our lives with amnesia. Or maybe, one of us will decide we want something else.
Diane: None of those things will happen. I'll be back here. I will. I'll see you in six months, OK?
[Diane exits Cheers]
Sam: Have a good life....
Season 6

Sam: Hey, look at this: a letter for Carla Tortelli.
Carla: What?
Sam: [withholds the letter, teasing her] Hmm, my goodness.
Carla: Let me see. Come on.
Sam: What's the magic word?
Carla: Gelding!
Sam: That's the one. [gives her the letter]

Sam: Hey, this had been driving me crazy. I got to know something Paul.
Paul: What Sam?
Sam: I'll try to put this as delicately as I can because you're my friend and I like ya and I don't want to insult ya. Why would any girl be caught dead with you when she could be with me?
Paul: You thought that would offend me?
Sam: I'm serious. What did you do? Slip her a mickey or something?
Paul: Well since you asked me so nicely Sam, I'll tell ya. Paula is what we like to refer to as a chubby chaser.
Sam: You're kidding. You mean she like to go out with guys who are uh...
Paul: Portly Sam. The word is portly.

Sam: How did you know that?
Diane: Well I picked it up in pre-law.
Sam: I thought you were an English major.
Diane: Well that was after art and before psychology.
Sam: Is there anything you weren't in college?
Carla: Blonde.
Diane: Check the yearbook, Carla.

Sam: How you been there, Frasier?
Frasier: You know how it is for a psychiatrist this day in age. Divorces. Hopelessness over financial situations. Rampant paranoia. Thriving, never better.

Sam: How's life treatin' ya?
Norm: It's not Sammy, but that doesn't mean you can't.

Sam: How's your love life? I mean the physical part?
Woody: I can't speak for Kelly but I'm looking forward to it.
Sam: You're telling me that you and Kelly haven't slept together?
Woody: Well, we did once when we went to see Old Gringo, but the whole row was snoring.
Sam: Well, I think this may be your problem, Wood?
Woody: I always figured we'd wait until after we were married. That's the way everybody in Hanover does it, except for that couple that teaches art at the high school.

Sam: I could get out of prison after twelve years, serve on an all male ship for another four and be dropped on a desert island for another three eating nothing but raw oysters day after day and if one day Diane walked out of the surf naked, all I'd want from her is the hockey scores.
Diane: And you wouldn't even get that!

Sam: I didn't start drinking when she left, I was celebrating. [to Diane] Celebrating the day I got rid of you. You hear that everybody?
Everyone: Celebrating.
Diane: Well let me tell you something, Sam. I have two birthdays now. One to mark the occasion when my mother bore me and one to commemorate my glorious rebirth when I walked out of here.
Sam: Just one more time: you did not walk out of here. I kicked you out and I would do it again except that no man deserves that much pleasure in one's life.

Sam: I just wonder if this whole so-called allergy thing might not be psychosomatic.
Diane: Sam, I'm very impressed. That's a complex psychological concept coming from a man who who has to write "L" and "R" on the bottom of his shoes.

Sam: I keep askin' myself: what is the point to life?
Woody: Whew. That's a tough question.
Cliff: Ehh. Well, I got the answer.
Frasier: Somehow I knew you would.
Cliff: Comfortable shoes.
Frasier: Shoes?
Cliff: Yeah. If you're not wearin' comfortable shoes, life is just chaos. I mean the greatest accomplishments in history have been made by men wearin' accommodating shoes. Uh, Frasier, tell me, who do you think is the greatest thinker in all mankind?
Frasier: I don't know, uh... Aristotle.
Cliff: There you go: sandals. Perhaps the most comfortable shoe there is. You hardly even know you have them on. I mean Confucius: thongs. Einstein: loose loafers.

Sam: I see what you're doing here. You're trying to plant a seed in my brain.
Diane: Oh don't be silly. I know of nothing that grows in solid rock.

Sam: I'll tell you something else I haven't had much experience saying no to women. The closest I've come is "Not now, we're landing."