Frasier: [enters] Afternoon, all.
Woody: Hey, how's it going, Dr. Crane?
Frasier: Oh, the usual. The crying, the tantrums, the bed-wetting.
Woody: Yeah. That's fatherhood.
Frasier: No, that's my therapy group. What a bunch of losers.

Frasier: You know, I'm just a bit stressed today. Lilith and I have been looking for a preschool for Frederick. Tomorrow we've got an interview with the administrators of the Magic Hours Learning Center.
Sam: You know, I don't get that. Now, this is your kid, your money-- why aren't you interviewing them?
Frasier: Well, the beauty of private education, Sam, is that they're able to weed out the unacceptable lowlifes. I just pray I'm not one of them.
Cliff: Wa-wa-wa-wa-wait a second here. Uh, what's the matter with public school? I went to public school.
Frasier: [smiles] I love you, Cliff. Don't ever change.

Frasier: Carla, please! Lilith is mourning the loss of a close friend.
Carla: What's the big deal? You go find another rat to hook up to your electrodes.
Lilith: My research never harmed Whitey in any way. In fact, he had everything a rat could want. If he needed it, I gave it to him. That rat was the envy of others.
Frasier: You know, that's true, but I got over it.
Lilith: I miss him so much. [brief, spluttering sobs]
Frasier: Let it out, darling.
Lilith: I am.

Sam: Oh, good morning there. Did you sleep okay?
Frasier: Not too well, Sam. You know, I'd have thought that that couch, after all the acrobatics you've done on it, would have a little more give. But I appreciate your hospitality.
Sam: Anytime, Fras.
Frasier: You know, I guess I ought to freshen up, huh? This is what it's come to. Bedding down in a bar, wearing the same clothes for two days in a row.
Norm: Yeah, well, the trick, Fras, is to take your sport coat off like that.
Frasier: Yeah?
Norm: And stand directly under the air conditioning duct for about, uh ten minutes. Take it from me, if you do that, you can go another couple days easy.
Frasier: Are you saying that you sometimes go for days at a time in the same clothes?
Norm: Oh, yeah, you get a look that works for you, you stick with it.

Frasier: Well, is there anything here I can have for breakfast?
Rebecca: If you'd like something that's tasty and nutritious, you could spread some of this, uh, bean curd on these fiber-rich bran crackers.
Frasier: I won't eat that crap.
Rebecca: Frasier, you're a doctor. You should believe in health and nutrition.
Frasier: Doesn't mean I have to listen to some tree-hugging, dirt-munching Druid. I'm sorry. I'm not exactly what you'd call a morning person.

Administrator #1: But before you leave, would you like to see something precious? Our Sylvia just had babies.
Frasier: Well, who's Sylvia?
Administrator #2: The school's pet hamster.
Lilith: Oh. Oh, look at that little one in the corner. He looks just like Whitey.
Administrator #2: Who's Whitey?
Lilith: Oh, he was my favorite dead rat that this bastard took and threw in the trash!
Frasier: Don't mind her. She's just overemotional, and crazy as a loon!
Lilith: I suppose you'd like to take one of these and throw it in the garbage, too? Here, why don't you just bite the heads off these birds while you're at it, Dr. Death?
Frasier: I am not the one who goes walking around with the decomposing corpse of a rat in my purse.
Lilith: You're a hateful man.
Frasier: And you are a troubled, disturbed woman. [Lilith exits] But a wonderful mother.
Administrator #1: Well, we'll get back to you.

Frasier: Well, darling, I think everyone would agree that existence is tenuous at best. Therefore, all we can do is embrace life. And you and l, we're so fortunate. We, we have a baby, the very symbol of life reborn.
Lilith: Frasier, he's no longer a baby. He'll be going to school in September.
Frasier: Oh, yes, if we can successfully negotiate a preschool interview without slipping into a scene from Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? But, darling, you're right. Frederick is getting older. You know there is a way we could renew ourselves yet again.
Lilith: How would we do that?
Frasier: We could have another child.
Lilith: We could, couldn't we? That's a wonderful idea. Oh, Frasier, suddenly, I'm filled with a glow. Let's start right now.
Frasier: It's all so strange. A seemingly insignificant creature lives and dies... a marriage is threatened... a child's education is almost destroyed... yet, somehow, someway, I'm getting some action out of it.

Lilith: Frasier, I have some bad news. This morning at 9:00, Whitey passed away.
Frasier: Oh, Lilith.
Sam: Oh.
Frasier: I'm so sorry.
Lilith: Just yesterday, he was so young, so vital. This morning I walked into the lab and found him facedown in his nest of cedar shavings.
Norm: Excuse me?
Frasier: You see, Whitey was Lilith's senior, and most cherished, lab rat.
Sam: Aw, gee! [grumbling]

Frasier: Oh, thank God. I didn't miss the interview, did l?
Lilith: Yes, you did. I've already had it. They're outside conferring about us now.
Frasier: What did you tell them about me?
Lilith: I described you in terms which were positively glowing, which is the way I'd like to see you in hell. So just remember when they come back in to pretend that we love each other. After that, I go right back to loathing you.
Frasier: I can't believe that you're willing to destroy our marriage all because of your childish refusal to accept the death of an animal.
Lilith: The very fact that you think of Whitey as "an animal" proves that we are completely incompatible.
Frasier: But he was an animal! Well, what-what-what was he? A-a-a vegetable? A mineral? Oh, I know, he was the CEO of General Motors.

Sam: Hey, this has been driving me crazy. I gotta know something here, Paul.
Paul: What, Sam?
Sam: Well, I'll try to put this as delicately as I can, because you're my friend and I like you, and I don't want to insult you, but why would any girl be caught dead with you when she could be with me?
Paul: You thought that would offend me?
Sam: I'm serious. I mean, what'd you do, slip her a mickey or something?
Paul: Well, since you asked me so nicely, Sam, I'll tell you. Paula is what we like to refer to as a chubby-chaser.
Sam: You're kidding. You mean, she likes to go out with guys who are... Who are, uh...
Paul: Portly, Sam. The word is "portly."