Cheers

Frasier: Sam, your whole life has been a string of meaningless albeit enjoyable sexual encounters. Now for the first time you're engaging in a meaningful productive pursuit. It's a common conflict between what we call recreational sex and procreational sex. Sam: What? Frasier: Oh dirty sex and clean sex.

Frasier: Sam what is it? Sam: I-I-can't. Frasier: Is it an accident? A fire? Do you want us to follow you? Sam, look just pull yourself together and tell me what it is. Sam: I can't. Frasier: Yes, you can. Just organize your thoughts, form the words, and tell me. Sam: I can't. Frasier: Sam, if you want me to help you, you're gonna have to tell me what the problem is. Sam: I am. Frasier: Then what is it? Sam: (yelling) I can't!

Sam: Woody, we're out of here. You're in charge of the bar. Woody: Why bother, Sam? Whenever you put me in charge nobody every listens to me. I just get laughed at and get drinks poured over my head. Sam: If anyone does that to you, you just sic Carla on them. Woody: I'm talkin' about Carla.

Rebecca: Look I don't want it to be that we just do it. I want this to be special. I mean what's going to happen when our child asks us about the night we conceived. What are we going to say? Sam: How about, "Mind your own business?"

Norm: Sammy, we have a smoking section? Sam: Yeah over by the piano. Norm: I gotta turn my head more.

Woody: Of course where's my head? Carla: Probably in the pumpkin patch wondering when the mix up occurred.

Norm: Cliffie, I hate to interrupt but we're here. Cliff: Normie, how come you always drop me off six blocks away from my house? Norm: This time it's a mile. Get out.