Frasier: What is that supposed to mean?
Lana: It means... that nothing is ever good enough for you. You complain about everything.
Frasier: That is not true.
Lana: Oh, come on, Frasier. I have been out with you. "The wine has turned." "The silver has tarnished." "The service is too slow." "The cheese is runny."
Frasier: Fine, it was Camembert. If anything, it wasn't runny enough. Yes, I may have exacting standards, but what you choose to characterize as fault-finding, I think of as my steadfast refusal to settle.
Lana: Please. This Newport is more alive with pleasure than you are. The truth is, Frasier, you don't know how to be happy.
Frasier: That is ridiculous.
Lana: Admit it. You know I'm right.
Frasier: Want to see me happy? You leave more than half a car length between us and that Taurus.