Martin: Well, I said I'd replace it, didn't I? And here it is, I hope you're happy.
Frasier: "With pasteurized, processed, cheese-flavored snack food." Dear God, it looks like someone melted down a highway cone.

Frasier: For God's sake. This thing breaks like crockwork. [laughs] Crockwork, I'll tell you... Ah Frasier, once again you've suffered the tragedy of being clever, and alone.

Roz: Pizza smells good.
Martin: Well, have some. It's called a Dirty Dozen. Twelve delicious toppings, and not one of them duck.
Frasier: This from the gourmet who dumped my Cornish Yarg cheese down the disposal.
Martin: It was covered with mold!
Frasier: It was supposed to be!

Daphne: Hello.
Frasier: Oh, hi. How was the honeymoon?
Daphne: Oh, Tahiti was absolute paradise. Except for poor Niles getting sunburned.
Frasier: Oh dear, Niles. You look like you've crawled out of a bisque.
Niles: And you look like someone who doesn't want his Paul Gauguin souvenir oven mitt.

Frasier: Oh, hi. Roz, what a pleasant surprise.
Roz: This is Lizbeth. We were just shopping in the neighborhood, and thought we'd stop by.
Frasier: Well, how lovely. It's a pleasure to meet you, Elizabeth.
Lizbeth: It's not Elizabeth, it's "Lizbeth."
Frasier: Ah, like Lisbon!
Lizbeth: Like a what?
Frasier: Enchanté.
Lizbeth: Right, and meeting you was just... [looking to Roz] super.
Frasier: Yes, the feeling is mutual. [at Roz] Enchanté, enchanté, enchanté.
Lizbeth: Oh, and for me it's just been super. [at Roz] Super, super!

Roz: This sucks, I don't even have my cell phone. Don't you have your cell phone, Frasier?
Frasier: Roz, I'm Uncle Sam. I don't have a cell phone. I shouldn't even have this zipper.

Frasier: Niles, will you please stop being so morose? It is Thanksgiving.
Niles: Oh, you're right. I should count my blessings. I'm in the midst of a bitter divorce. Maris is freezing my assets, forcing me to live in the Shangri-La, which is the devil's own apartment complex, where last night they turned off my heat, re-freezing my assets!

Frasier: You'd better get used to the name "Evelyn Griebel," because you're going to be hearing an awful lot of it around here. Evelyn Griebel. Sounds like music, doesn't it?
Daphne: Haven't you only been dating her a week?
Frasier: Well, yes, and you know how loath I am to use the expression "she may be the one," but I think in this case it's appropriate.

Niles: I finally got Maris calmed down. I hope you're happy.
Frasier: All I said was, "Maris, why the long face?"
Niles: Yes, and now she's on the phone to her chin-grinder in Zurich.

Martin: Hey, you hungry, Roz? There's cheese here. Oh, nobody opened it.
Frasier: Dear God, Dad, that's three years old! Throw it out!
Martin: No, it'll be fine. Sure you don't want any? The label says it's "famously spreadable."
Niles: Funny, Roz, doesn't your label say the same thing?
Roz: What does yours say, Niles? "May cause drowsiness"?