Cheers

Sam: Hey sweetheart, what do you think? If it's a boy we name it Sam. Rebecca: Oh I don't know. You know I always thought that naming a child after yourself was saying you wanted them to grow up just like you, like the things you like, to act the way you do. Sam: Okay Sam it is.

Cliff: Woody, set me up with a beer, will ya? Woody: Aren't you gonna finish your mail route, Mr. Clavin? Cliff: Are you kiddin'? There's too much snow and sleet out there. Besides it's gettin' a little dark.

Rebecca: Excuse me. This is the 12th. Sam: Yeah well I work on the 12th. Rebecca: Well I ovulate on the 12th. Sam: How was I supposed to know that? Norm: We all knew it. It's in the newsletter.

Frasier: I sense the mood of the bar. You're all suffering from the winter blues; the shortened daylight hours, the cold numbing weather, the bleak sense of isolation. It's what we in the psychiatric professions call, the jackpot.