[A "Jacqueline Bisset" is coming to Boston; Sam needs her to marry him to win the bet]
Sam: I guess I ought to wear something kinda nice � my best outfit. Say, Diane, when you dream about me what am I wearing?
Diane: An anthill.

[A pregnant Lilith enters the bar.]
Lilith: Lay your hands upon me everyone, I am life. I am mother. My man's seed is nourished within me. [To Sam] Touch my breasts, my friend, I am lactating.
Sam: Boy, I tell ya, this is kind of a first for me, uh, but I'm gonna pass.

[after Andy leaves the bar, Diane follows Sam into the office]
Diane: Sam, I'm sorry. I feel awful. You were right. Please accept my apology.
Sam: Oh, forget it, Diane. I forgive you. "The quality of mercy is not strained; it droppeth as the gentle rain from Heaven upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: it blesseth him that gives and him that takes."
Diane: Thank you, Sam. What did you say?
Sam: I think you heard me.
Diane: Yes, but YOU said it.
Sam: [puts on his smoking jacket; Diane is astounded] Come on, Diane. You really didn't believe that buffoonish façade that I've been perpetrating for the benefit of my blue-collar clientele did you?

[After Rebecca says Cheer's is in danger of shutting down due to costs.]
Norm: Well, maybe it isn't exactly my place to say this. But, Cheers means about as much to me as much as anyone here. This is pretty bad news. I'd say bad news like this deserves a sympathy round of drinks on the house.

[After the guys have to sing naked at Gary's, they're getting dressed in the backroom]
Sam: That was the low point in my life. Never, ever, have I been naked and not had fun. I tell you it was degradation.
Woody: I thought we were a lot tighter the second show.
Paul: How am I ever gonna show my face in here again?
Norm: Paul, it's not your face that's burned into my memory.
Cliff: You know, I kinda found the whole thing, uh, quite exhilarating.
Norm: Exhilarating?
Cliff: I meant humiliating.

[Andy is strangling Diane, dressed as characters from "Othello".]
Diane: Help, this psycho is trying to kill me!
Coach: That's the only line from Shakespeare I ever understood!

[Business isn't doing well at Cheers now that Sam is the host]
Sam: I'll think of something.
Cliff: Skimpy outfits on the waitresses, Sammy.
Sam: That's not bad.
Carla: Wait a minute. I don't want people having a look at something I'm ashamed of.
Sam: You've got a lovely body.
Carla: [pointing at Diane] I was talking about hers.
Sam: I'll think of something.
Diane: Well I don't know what.
Sam: You don't have my brain.
Diane: Whoever has it should return it. You need it right now.

[Carla starts out the door with Vinnie]
Carla: So, um, you like kids, huh?
Vinnie: Like 'em? I love 'em! I got seven of my own.
[Carla shuts the door on Vinnie]
Sam, Diane, others: Carla!
Carla: It's okay, I'm only joking. [she goes out to Vinnie]
Carla: Hey, Vinnie, could you do me a favor? Just for tonight could you pretend that your name is Mitch and that you're an airline pilot?
Vinnie: Well, I guess... if you'll call yourself Raven and pretend you're a Vegas showgirl.
Carla: You're weird... I like that.

[Carla walks into the bar wearing a parka]
Sam: What's with the getup?
Carla: It's Indian Summer, Sam. I need these clothes for protection.
Sam: Protection from what?
Carla: The eyes of men.
Sam: What are you talking about?
Carla: Every time I've conceived a kid it's been during Indian Summer. It's when I'm at my most fertile, Sammy. I cannot let any man touch me, talk to me, or see me or I'll be shooting out kids like a Pez dispenser.

[Carla's cousin, Santo Carbone, the detective has been meeting with Norm and Phyllis]
Santo: Oh, look. You both seem like nice people, huh?. Do yourselves a favor � don't hire me.
Norm: Well, that's an interesting sales pitch you have there, but, uh, we, uh, we're quite serious about this.
Santo: You don't know what you're letting yourselves in for here. A lot of pain, a lot of heartache, a lot of misery.
Carla: And that's just when you see the bill.
Santo: My cousin � she's a pistol.

[Cliff enters the bar]
Sam: Hey, Cliffy. How ya doin'?
Cliff: Not well, Sam. Boy am I mad. I've never been this upset! Three words, fellas. Three words... "Dames is grief"!
Norm: Fighting with ma, huh?
Cliff: Oh and how. Seems like that's all we do anymore. You know, you'd think it'd be a perfect set-up: a mother and a grown son living in a one-bedroom apartment. But, no. Reality check, gentlemen! Life is not like the movies, I guess, huh.
Sam: I'm sure it'll all blow over, Cliffy.
Cliff: Oh, no way, Sammy; not this time. I tell you that broad's pushed me too hard - too hard, I tell ya! And it's about time I started pushin' back. She's just gone and created a monster, that's all. But this monster is not gonna lie in some tomb of ice, no siree. My anger will melt that ice so that I might rise up and... and crush the Tokyo of the buildings there beneath the talons of my animosity...
Frasier: [interrupts] Cliff. Cliff. We all appreciate how hard you're working on this metaphor, but we get the idea.

[Cliff is showing off his new sunglasses]
Cliff: Italian imports � sixty-five smackeroonies. That's right, notice the, uh, sleek European styling there, the sturdy reinforced frames and the high tech shatterproof reflective lenses that allow me to scope out the dollies without, uh, drawing attention to myself.
Carla: You could walk up to ‘em naked with your hair on fire and not draw attention to yourself.
Cliff: How would you know? They only work on women.
Carla: They seem to have given you courage.

[Cliff's dad, on the run from the law, leaves secretly]
Norm: What do you supposed happened to him?
Cliff: It's obvious, isn't it? My father didn't trust me so he gave me the slip out of the bathroom window. I guess I'll, uh, just go home. (dejected, he starts to leave)
Carla: But, you're ruling out the other possibility.
Cliff: What other possibility?
Carla: Well, it's a little known fact, but more and more people have been going into men's rooms and vaporizing. I mean just disappearing into thin air. It's an unexplained phenomenon.
Norm: It's kinda like, uh, the Bermuda Triangle.
Carla: That's right.
Cliff: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get serious, will you.
Carla: Have it your way.
Cliff: Well, you know, however, uh, this much is true: you know, uh, it's been recent sightings of, uh, human beings being, uh, shot up into the underbelly of alien spacecraft. You know, and speaking of the Bermuda Triangle... it's not technically a triangle.
Woody: It's not?
Cliff: Heck no! It's a "trapazedarhomboid". Perfect for, uh, attracting Martian spacecraft.

[Diane enters Cheers with a friend.]
Diane: This is Heather Landon, my oldest friend.
Carla: Meet her this morning?

[Diane enters]
Diane: Hello, everyone.
[Everyone mumbles halfhearted greetings]
Diane: Oh, come on, what kind of a greeting is that? When Norm comes in you all yell 'Norm!' and make a big fuss over him. Is it asking too much for me to get the same treatment every once in a while?
Sam: She's right. Try it again, sweetheart.
Diane: Yeah. Thanks.
[Diane reenters]
Diane: Hello, everyone.
Everyone: Norm!
Diane: [pauses] That's better.