Daphne: It's time to take my pills. I forgot all about them. They're back at the apartment.
Niles: What pills?
Daphne: It's my thyroid. Nothing serious, just a bit overactive. If I don't take my pills I tend to faint dead away.
Niles: What's the point in a fainting couch if you can't use it once in a while?

Martin: Well, I'm sorry to tax your delicate system, but Daphne is back, and she and Sherry are at it again, and she said she's going to stay overnight with Niles, and I don't know what to do and this is your department.
Frasier: Unless blood has been spilled, and on a carpeted area, I don't care. Now get out!

Frasier: All right! I am moments away from succumbing once and for all to this flu, but I will take one stab at this and then I am going to sink, Hippopotamus-like, beneath the bubbles. I think what this all comes down to is a dispute over turf. Daphne and Sherry are like two animals scent-marking their territory, which in this case is you, Dad.
Martin: You couldn't come up with a less disgusting comparison?
Frasier: All right, all right, fine, it's like the Roman emperor Tiberius, his mother Livia, and his wife Vipsania.
Martin: What?
Sherry: Huh?
Daphne: Who?
Niles: Go on.

Niles: Thank you very much!
Frasier: Oh, please, Niles. Look, unconsciously you knew this wasn't right. That's why you brought Daphne back here.
Niles: No, we came back to fetch her damn thyroid pills.
Frasier: You're a doctor. Why didn't you just use your prescription pad?
Niles: Oh, my God.
Frasier: Isn't there an all-night pharmacy across the street from your building?
Niles: Oh, my God!

Martin: It looks like it's going to be another scorcher.
Frasier: Hmm.
Martin: Radio said high nineties.
Frasier: Yes, hot.
Martin: Yeah, well, I guess they'll be some more brown-outs. I hate to think what it'll do to the crops.
Frasier: Dad, please, I'm trying to read.
Martin: Oh, sure, sorry. Oh, another double homicide last night. Yeah, with this heat wave, though, I'm not surprised. I wonder what started that?
Frasier: Perhaps someone wouldn't stop talking about the weather.
Martin: Hey, you might be right. It's a real scorcher out there.

Sherry: Morning, handsome. Did I say that before?
Martin: Before, and after.

Sherry: What about you, sweetie?
Daphne: Oh, just half of one for me.
Sherry: Oh come on, wouldn't hurt you to put on a few pounds. Men like to see a little oomph in your walk-away.
Martin: Yeah, you ought to see them smile when Sherry leaves the room.
Daphne: I can imagine.

Roz: I'm gonna break every bone in your fat little body!
Bulldog: Hey, if you weren't a girl and I didn't kinda like this, I'd be pounding ya.

Bulldog: Well, if you get sick don't go sneezing on everything. The last time the Happy Chef got a cold I was picking lettuce off the mike for a week.

Roz: You will not believe what he-
Frasier: Roz, I meant what I said. I simply cannot deal with other people's problems today.
Roz: Well, good news for Mark on line three, whose wife is keeping a pumpkin in a bassinet.