Frasier: Don't you see?! What these two people, who are such geniuses at romance, are trying to do is to get you to take your hair down, thinking that it will stimulate me like some sort of Pavlovian dog. So, why don't you just oblige them. Get this silliness over with so we can get on with our lives.
[Lilith takes down her hair and fixes it to where it is over her shoulders.]
Lilith: You mean like this?
Frasier: [lustful] Precisely. You know what?
Lilith: What?
Frasier: I'm going to kiss you. I'm going to kiss you hard and I'm going to kiss you long. But make no mistake about it, I am going to kiss you. In fact, I'm going to kiss you like you've never--
[Lilith throws her arms around Frasier and kisses him in a long embrace.]
Frasier: Yes. Like that. Now, listen, Lilith. I think you and I have just been too articulate for words. We talk and we talk when what we really want to do is show how we feel.
Lilith: I think, Dr. Crane--
Frasier: Look, I don't care what you think. We both wanna be animals. Now, I'm going back to my tastefully decorated townhouse and prove it.
[Frasier starts towards the door. He stops right next to Lilith.]
Frasier: Well, I-I suggest you come with me.
Lilith: I think I see what you're trying to do, Dr. Crane, and I just want you to know...[breathes heavily] It worked.
[Lilith jumps into Frasier's arms.]
Lilith: Let's go.
[Frasier carries Lilith out of Cheers.]

Frasier: I should have done this earlier.
Sam: What are you doing?
[Frasier locks the bathroom from the outside]

Frasier: Sam, this has gone too far. I think it's time you told her the truth.
Sam: The truth? And you call yourself a psychiatrist.

Frasier: Something tells me Diane's not the type of woman who'd want a ring from a jeweler who starts every business transaction with "Pssst, buddy."

Frasier: You didn't want to eat there anyway, Sam. The waiters pride themselves on rudeness. The portions are too small and it's exorbitantly overpriced.
Sam: You couldn't get in either?
Frasier: Not till April.

Lilith: What was that? [Tries door] Frasier what are you doing? Frasier the door seems to be jammed. Frasier?
Diane: Sam, open the door.
[Fraiser offers Sam a cigar]
Frasier: Macanudo?
Sam: Don't mind if I do, thank you.
Frasier: You know, I can't stand all this caterwauling, let's go upstairs. I've got all 13 episodes of I, Claudius on tape.
Sam: Great, I love gladiator flicks.

Lilith: I suggest that your behavior indicates an unacceptable level of sexual frustration. You strike me as a man who needs professional help. Or perhaps a girlfriend.
Frasier: And you strike me as a woman who could use a good cuffing.

Madeline: I'd like to help with the doctor bills.
[Cliff looks at Sam.]
Sam: That's good.
Cliff: [to Madeline] That's good.
Madeline: Anything to help ease the burden on you and your family.
[Cliff looks at Sam again.]
Sam: You're not married.
Cliff: [to Madeline] You're not married. [Sam taps Cliff on the shoulder.] I mean I'm not married. But I could be if I wanted to. Right, Sam?
Sam: Sure.

Norm: Are you in pain, Woody?
Woody: No, I was just thinkin'.
Norm: Yeah, the first time's always the worst.
Woody: Who do you think Sam's gonna propose to, tonight?
Carla: What're you babblin' about, Billy Bob Joe Jim?

Norm: Have you checked out the rest of the place yet?
Carla: No, I thought it might be a good idea to have a beer first.
Norm: Yeah, I find that pretty much applies to everything.

Norm: We were thinking maybe somebody's got to tell Carla that she's jinxing Eddie.
Sam: And what suicidal idiot did you have in mind to do that?
Norm: Well your name kept coming up.

Sam: [to Diane] They can stop me from killing you, but they can't stop me from marrying you.

Sam: Christmas comes earlier every year, doesn't it?
Woody: I think if you check Sam, it always comes on the 25th of December.

Sam: Diane, change.
Diane: Not for you or any man.
Sam: No, no Diane. Change: nickels, dimes, quarters.

Sam: Father, do you believe in the afterlife?
Priest: Yes, my son. I do.
[Pause]
Sam: Well, good. Maybe I can find her there, and, get her again.