Frasier: Niles, you seem more than usually agitated today. Problem?
Niles: I'm meeting my publisher here in fifteen minutes. Remember the book deal I signed last month, the one you were so jealous of?
Frasier: I wasn't jealous, Niles, you just wanted me to be jealous.
Niles: Well, it's all moot anyway, the deal's about to be killed. It turned out the idea I sold them had already been done. They gave me until today to come up with an alternative and I've got bubkis. I've got less than bubkis. I've got what bubkis keeps for lint in the bottom of his pocket.

Frasier: I hate to squash your enthusiasm, but don't you think that before we start actually typing the book, we should discuss what the book is going to be about.
Niles: Forgive me for just barreling ahead, but damn it, I'm jazzed. You know, we have to approach this book from a completely different angle from all of our previous writings, our dissertations, out theses-
Frasier: Hmm, that's right. Yeah, this has to be interesting!

Frasier: I'm not paying any of this!
Niles: So, you're cheap as well as intellectually barren.
Frasier: And you're a no-talent hack.
Niles: And you look stupid in a t-shirt!

Sam: So, Niles, what's your idea?
Niles: My idea. Well, Sam, you know I've given it a lot of thought, and it's not easy-
Sam: You'd almost think there's a book in that.
Niles: In what?
Sam: Two psychiatrist brothers writing about sibling relationships.
Niles: That, Sam, is why you are the most respected publisher in the greater Seattle area. That is exactly the idea we were going to pitch to you.
Frasier: What?
Sam: Terrific!
Frasier: I hate to interrupt-
Sam: Gentlemen, I'm going to cancel my lunch date so I can take you two out to celebrate.
Niles: Well, we were going to write today, but okay.

Martin: Hello, Niles, what are you doing over here?
Frasier: Oh, Dad, I told you it's our first writing session tonight.
Martin: But I thought you were doing it over at Niles' house.
Niles: Er, we were supposed to. Unfortunately, it's Maris's turn to host her sherry tasting group and things tend to get a little raucous when she does.

Niles: Well, the obvious approach is case histories. We'll fill the book with anecdotes about brothers and sisters we've dealt with over the years in our practice.
Frasier: Yes, and if we throw in a few references to heaving bosoms, we're bound to make Book of the Month Club.

Frasier: Of course I have an idea, it's my radio show. I mean, what better source of case histories can there be? I'll simply ask my listeners to call in with their personal stories of sibling conflict, and you can be my guest on the show.
Niles: So, what you're suggesting, is that exploit your listeners' lives for our own personal gain?
Frasier: In essence, yes. What do you think?
Niles: I think it's borderline sleazy. Let's go for it!

Frasier: Wait, wait, I just remembered a story about George and Ira Gershwin when they had to meet a deadline. They would lock themselves in a hotel room, free from distractions, and not come out until their task was complete.
Niles: Brilliant! If we get hot we'll not only finish this volume but we can write another chorus to "Betsy Who Is My Woman Now."

Frasier: Niles, you're right. All we need is a good opening sentence. Something that will smack the reader right between the eyes and then take him on a virtual roller-coaster ride of self awareness and discovery.
Niles: Frasier, while you were out there mixing metaphors like a Cuisinart, I've had a breakthrough. Voila. Our opening sentence.
Frasier: "From Romulus and Remus to the Lennon Sisters, sibling relationships have sparked psychological debate throughout the world." Hmm. Interesting.
Niles: You like it?
Frasier: Well, I said it was interesting. The task ahead of us now is to decide whether we'd like an interesting opening or a good one.
Niles: You're just being negative because you didn't think of it first.
Frasier: No, in truth I'm not. I never cared for Romulus, I never cared for Remus and the reference to the Lennon sisters is from the friggin' moon.

Frasier: No, it's not for the book. I've just realized why so many writers become bloated alcoholic suicides. [Niles types] No, don't type that in.
Niles: I'm not. I'm adding up our tab from the mini-bar. We now owe two hundred and thirty-two dollars.
Frasier: [looks out of window] Oh, dear God!
Niles: Well, you're the damn fool that ate the whole jar of Macadamia nuts.