Frasier: Where have you been? We're on in two minutes!
Roz: Forgive me, but I was busy preparing your schedule for tomorrow. You've got lunch with the station manager, you're recording a PSA at three o'clock and don't forget to send flowers to your sister-in-law at the hospital.
Frasier: Oh yes, Maris's face-lift!
Roz: Really? I didn't know she needed one.
Frasier: Well, she doesn't, actually. There's nothing wrong with Maris that wouldn't be cured by a little sun, some exercise and a personality.

Niles: Oh God, I'm due back with Maris. Oh, if anyone needs me, I'll be sleeping at the hospital tonight.
Frasier: Why?
Niles: Maris's doctor feels it's more soothing for the patient to duplicate the home environment as closely as possible. So I slipped a pearl-handed revolver under her pillow and got myself a room across the hall.

Daphne: Oh, I know just what you mean, Dr. Crane. I fell victim to that pressure myself once. I had a mole removed.
Niles: Where?
Daphne: Just south of Manchester.
Niles: [laughs] I meant where on your body?
Daphne: So did I!

Niles: Frasier. What are you doing here?
Frasier: Oh, I finally got Dad and Artie Walsh talking again. Of course I did have to resort to cheap, manipulative pseudo-psychology.
Niles: Always go to your strengths.
Frasier: Well, what about you? It looks like you've bought out the entire gift shop. Maris should be pleased.
Niles: Oh, this isn't for Maris, it's for her nurses. They're having a meeting right now to discuss her care and from what people tell me, a hospital strike can be ugly!

Niles: Er, excuse me, do you work on my wife's floor - Mrs. Maris Crane?
Nurse: Yes, I do.
Niles: I'd like you to have these chocolates.
Nurse: I'm on the night shift.
Niles: And this lovely watch.

Frasier: Why are you running down to the Xerox room for extra copies of my schedule? It wouldn't have anything to do with that new intern, would it? What's his name?
Roz: Eli.
Frasier: Roz, he's probably all of nineteen.
Roz: That's legal.
Frasier: Well, koo-koo-ka-choo, Mrs. Robinson.

Niles: Hello, Frasier.
Frasier: I thought you'd be at the hospital with Maris.
Niles: I'm on my way down there now. Poor Maris, she's so worried. She hasn't had much hospital experience. Except the usual childhood things: tonsils, adenoids, force-feeding.

Niles: I still remember him inviting us to his house for weenie roasts when we were kids.
Frasier: I'm sure he remembers you too, asking for a salad nicoise!

Martin: You know, if you want my opinion, this is just vanity.
Frasier: Oh, it's not vanity, Dad, it's insecurity. It's easy to understand how women can fall victim to our culture's
worship at the altar of youth and beauty.
Niles: Precisely. Women over forty can't help but feel unattractive if they don't have [looking at Daphne] perfect hair, porcelain skin, limpid eyes, pouting lips, and the voluptuous contours of a goddess. [sighs wistfully] ... I'm sorry, I've forgotten what my point was.

Niles: [on the phone] Yes, yes, Maris, I'm sure. No, no, you can't gain weight from a glucose IV. No. No, my little worry wart, there's no such thing as a NutraSweet drip. Just, just try to close your eyes and go to sleep. Goodnight, Puppy Toes. [hangs up]