Carla Tortelli-LeBec: Buy yourself a melon in case you misplace your head.
John Allen Hill: Thank you. Tell me Carla, clinically speaking, are you considered a dwarf or a midget?
Carla Tortelli-LeBec: Say, is that your head, or is your neck blowing a bubble?
John Allen Hill: Somebody phone the authorities in Paris. A gargoyle has just fallen off Notre Dame and is now taking drink orders.
Carla Tortelli-LeBec: You know, two heads like that would make a perfectly good butt.
John Allen Hill: Shrike.
Carla Tortelli-LeBec: Bullet-head.
John Allen Hill: Slattern.
Carla Tortelli-LeBec: Hatchet-face.
John Allen Hill: [in a friendly tone after he looks at his watch] Well, must be off. Till next Monday.
Carla Tortelli-LeBec: [to Norm and Cliff, admiringly about Hill] He's good people.
Sam Malone: [about $25,000 Rebecca says she has] Where are you going to get that kind of money?
Rebecca Howe: I have a degree, I'm a businesswoman, I just spent the last ten years in a major corporation my daddy is giving it to me.
Dr. Lilith Sternin-Crane: [to Rebecca] Why do you want Cheers? I would think, for you, this bar would only have negative associations connected with it. Well, think of all the heartbreak you've had here, the forgotten goals, the missed opportunities...
Norm Peterson: Hey, it's called atmosphere, babe.
Dr. Lilith Sternin-Crane: I would would think, for you, this place would have the stench of failure.
Carla Tortelli-LeBec: No, that's Clavin. And FYI, it's not just failure.
Rebecca Howe: You know, actually Lilith, I had more productive, successful times at Cheers than I've had any other place in my life.
Dr. Lilith Sternin-Crane: [in shock] Oh, Dear God!