Frasier: I would like to nominate as the stupidest creature on Earth the one who awakens each day to drive through gridlocked traffic, to sit in a windowless office breathing re-circulated air, then returns home and collapses into a stupor... only to do the same damn thing all over again every day until he dies.
Norm: Looking forward to that vacation, eh, Fras?
Frasier: You bet. We're going to Maui.

Sam: What is it with these machines, anyway? Computers faxes, voice mail. You know, when I ran this place in the old days, I had everything I needed right up here.
Frasier: Brains, Sam?
Sam: No, good hair. Brains... [scoffs] I'm serious, you know. Good looks can open doors. Good hair blows them off their hinges.

Carla: Here you go.
Man: Hey.
Carla: Something wrong?
Man: Yes, I'll say. You didn't ask me if I needed anything else. Do you see this roll of dollar bills here?
Carla: Yeah.
Man: This is your tip. I've set it aside in advance. Now here's the deal. Every time you do something wrong, I take a dollar bill, see? That way, I get decent service. Understood?
Carla: Fair enough. Here's my deal for you. Every time you take away a dollar, I do this. [Carla puts her finger in the man's beer and flicks it at him]
Man: That just cost you another dollar. [Carla does it again] There, you happy? Your tip money's all gone.
Carla: That's just great. 'Cause I just got my own. [slams cash on the table and pours the beer over the man's head]
Norm: So, uh, how long is your brother going to be in town?
Carla: Two weeks.