Frasier: Bup, bup, bup! Not another word!
Roz: But he-
Frasier: Bup! I don't care who did what to whom or in what disgusting manner. As we speak, hordes of viral Visigoths are hurling themselves over the battlements of my immune system, laying waste to my... Oh, dear God, you see how weak I am? I can't even finish a simple Visigoth metaphor.

Daphne: You've got a lot of nerve talking to me that way.
Sherry: Me? You're the one who started it. Didn't she, Marty?
Martin: Hey, you're not putting me in the middle of this.
Daphne: I didn't start anything. You've had your big conk in my business all day.
Sherry: That better mean nose!
Daphne: And what if it doesn't?

Sherry: Coffee's on. Want a cuppa?
Frasier: No thank you, caffeine only weakens the immune system. I'm fighting off a flu.
Sherry: Oh, I'm sorry. Let me get you some breakfast.
Frasier: No, no, That's really not necessary.
Sherry: Oh, no, no. You'll feel much better once you've had my scrambled-egg tacos and Spam patties.
Frasier: In keeping with the trusty adage, "starve a cold, disgust a fever."

Frasier: Please, would you two spare me the single entendre this morning? I'm trying to avoid getting sick.
Sherry: Well there's nothing like one of mama's big biscuits if you're fighting something off.
Frasier: Yes, I'm sure with good aim it could bring down an elk.

Roz: Hey, I know what'll make you feel better. My friend Lisa's having a singles party tonight. I'm supposed to bring someone who I'm not interested in but who's a really good catch.
Frasier: Oh, Roz, please, I need my rest. You know, even if I didn't, I do not want to be poked and prodded by a bunch of desperate, alcohol-lubricated husband-hunters.
Roz: Oh, come on, it'll be fun. Cheryl from Sales was asking if you'd be there.
Frasier: Cheryl. Isn't she the one who, at the last company wedding, hip-checked you into the ice sculpture in her headlong rush to catch the bouquet?
Roz: That is not what happened. She thought the bartender said "last call."

Frasier: Is Seattle experiencing a Prozac shortage?
Martin: Daphne and Sherry have a little problem. Actually, maybe you can settle it.
Frasier: I'm sorry, Dad. It was all I could do to get through my show. King Solomon has split his last baby for the day.

Niles: I don't know what happened. My knees never buckled like that before. The wine and the heat must have made me dizzy.
Daphne: Yes, it is rather steamy in here.
Niles: I apologize for the lack of air conditioning. It seems in order to live in an exclusive landmark building, one must have to sweat through the odd heat wave like a tortured character in a Tennessee Williams play.

Daphne: Don't tell me you agree with her.
Niles: No, no. It's much too hot for hell to have frozen over.
Daphne: I mean, it's like caveman thinking. "All Daphne needs is a quick roll in the hay."
Niles: Yes, well...
Daphne: "A little slap and tickle would solve all her problems!"
Niles: Yeah.
Daphne: The worse part is, I think she might be right. Maybe part of why I got so mad at her is because she hit a nerve.
Niles: It's very possible.
Daphne: I mean, I have been keeping myself on the shelf lately. I'm feeling a little like the good China.
Niles: Someone should be eating off you everyday.

Niles: I love champagne, but it's a drink for two and I never have anyone to share it with.
Daphne: Yes, there are things you miss when you're on your own. Champagne. Another person's touch. Even if it's just holding hands. I guess you've been missing that sort of thing too since you and Mrs. Crane split up.
Niles: Well actually, Maris never held hands. She had a slight webbing that made her self-conscious.

Niles: I couldn't sleep at all knowing you were in the next room all hot and ... hot.
Daphne: Well, I suppose, under the circumstances, we could both sleep in the same room.
Niles: It does oscillate.
Daphne: What?
Niles: The fan.