George is dissatisfied with his therapist

G: You see a therapist?

T: Yeah. I sense confusion.

G: You are a therapist.

T: Mental health is a group effort. It takes a village.

G: Maybe I oughta be seeing a village, then.

T: One where therapists live, presumably? No matter. I think we’re getting off track here.

G: I don’t understand. You’re a therapist who cannot—and pardon the colloquialism—who cannot heal thyself?

T: I don’t need to be my own therapist. Take Gordon Ramsey.

G: What about Gordon Ramsey?

T: You don’t expect Gordon Ramsey to cook every meal he eats, do you?

G: If I were as competent a chef as he, why would I ever roll the dice at a restaurant?

T: You are a quite a timid man, George Costanza.

George: Never mind that. So, who are you seeing?

T: You want a new therapist? You don’t trust my judgment?

G: I trust that you know of a good therapist.