Rebecca: Look at this. A single white rose. I wonder what this means.
Carla: Well, if it means the same thing it does in my family, you'd better have Clavin start your car tonight.

Frasier: [sings] Hey, there Who? You, with the stars in your eyes Are you talking to me? Love never made a fool of you
Lilith: Frasier, it's been two days. I think it's time you stopped.
Frasier: [talks] In the middle of my salute to Adler and Ross? I think not. [sings] Hey, there You on that high-flying...
Lilith: It's a dangerous combination: a karaoke machine and an obsessive personality whose parents used to play Broadway cast albums to drown out their lovemaking.

Sam: She hasn't been here for two whole days. Do you do you think I ought to go see her, Lilith?
Lilith: I'm going to tell you what I tell all my patients: "What do you think?"
Sam: They pay you for that?
Lilith: What do you think?

Rebecca: Hey, you guys. Look what it says here on my limerick-a-day calendar.
Carla: Oh, let me guess. "There was an old maid named Becks who went a long time without sex."
Rebecca: Carla, why does your humor always have to be at someone else's expense?
Carla: That's what makes me laugh.

Rebecca: It's from Robin. "Dear Rebecca, I'll be free on Monday. If you're free as well, would you care to join me in holy matrimony?" Oh, my God. This is a proposal! [gasps] In three days, I'm gonna be Mrs. Robin Colcord.
Norm: Yeah, that is a cause for a special celebration. Woody, I think I'll have a beer.
Woody: Well, congratulations, Ms. Howe. I mean, gosh, you know I may not be the most inarticulate guy in the world, but...
Cliff: Wait, wait, wait, don't you mean articulate?
Woody: Well, isn't it the same thing like flammable and inflammable? Boy, I learned that one the hard way.

Sam: Listen, listen, listen. If you don't love the guy, why don't you just back out of this?
Rebecca: Oh, I'm supposed to tell the richest man in the world that I don't want to marry him?
Sam: No, he's not rich anymore, remember?
Rebecca: That's right. What's his number?

Walter: Hey, if you want, I could loan you a karaoke machine.
Sam: What's a karaoke machine?
Cliff: Walter. May l? You see, a karaoke machine is a self-contained, uh, musical gizmo of Oriental origin, much like yourself. You know, it plays the, uh, well, the background accompaniment to popular songs so that shower crooners like myself can sing along.
Carla: Oh, Clavin, I didn't know you did that. I'm amazed.
Cliff: That I sing?
Carla: No, that you shower. By the way, your singing stinks, too.

Woody: Well, what are we gonna do without our jukebox?
Norm: The place won't be the same.
Paul: No jukebox? I feel naked.
Frasier: Excuse me. Why are you all mourning the temporary loss of this jukebox? I mean, you never play it.
Sam: No, no, no, Fras, the point is, it's the perfect height to lean on. Take a look at what it does to the line of my body there. Perfect pick-up pose, man.
Woman: Hi.
Sam: Oh, no, I'm sorry. I'm just demonstrating. I'll talk to you later.

Frasier: All right, Sam. But you never play it.
Norm: Frasier, I never play Vera either, but I'd miss her if a couple guys wheeled her out of here on a refrigerator dolly.

Walter: Here we go, Sam. The karaoke machine and some song catalogs to go along with it.
Frasier: Oh, great. Just what we need. A loud, abrasive noise-making machine.
Norm: Fras, come on, don't pick on something that can't defend itself.
Cliff: Thank you, Norm.