Niles: [out of breath] Nineteen floors down to my car. Garage door's electric. Can't open. Twenty floors back up. Lost count. Bad lady upstairs. Big dog. Need place to die.

Frasier: Roz, I insist. There's no one I enjoy partying with more than you and I just hate to see you like this. I Camembert it!

Roz: [holding up a present] Happy Birthday!
Martin: Oh, you didn't have to do this. Hey, thanks, Roz! [pulls out a six-pack of Ballantine's] I'll have to model it for you later.
Daphne: He's already modeling the last one someone gave him.

Roz: [on the balcony] Same to you, buddy!
Martin: Who are you talking to?
Roz: Some rowdy guys downstairs. Come on out here, Martin. I want you to introduce us.

Frasier: You know you're not really mad at me, Niles. You know I didn't tell that woman to leave you. I merely suggested it as an option. It was all her choice. Could it be that you're really upset just because you couldn't help that woman?
Niles: You know, I really hate that. When you take a simple criticism and you turn it back on me.
Frasier: I think I'm right.
Niles: Well, of course you're right. Why do you think I hate it?

Roz: We play games and sing songs.
Frasier: Oh, of course. I know.
Roz: And Aunt Libby does cannonballs into the lake.
Frasier: Oh, yes, the memories must be...
Roz: And Uncle Ned has too much to drink and he starts putting pants on all the cows.

Roz: Well, every year I go to my reunion. My relatives crowd around me and I answer the same questions. No, I'm not married. No, I don't have any kids. Yes, I still have that tattoo. No, you can't see it. It would just be so nice if I could at least say I have a great career.
Frasier: Roz, you do have a great career.
Roz: Tell that to my relatives. You know, according to them I spend four hours on the phone every day with a bunch of losers and wackos, then I turn them over to some tedious know-it-all who gives them pointless advice.
Frasier: Hmm.
Roz: Oh, that's not me talking. That's my Uncle Ned.
Frasier: Oh, yes, the cow haberdasher.

Daphne: Ooh, yum, scrum, pig's bum. Here's something nice. Half-gallon tubs of Cookies & Cream and Vanilla Fudge.
Roz: Mmm, well let's take care of these right away before they melt.
Frasier: Well, there's no need to worry, ladies. The freezer will keep them cold for at least 24 hours.
Daphne and Roz: Shut up!

Roz: Will you people stop? You are torturing me. I could report you to Amnesty International.

Daphne: It just makes me feel like I'm not very ambitious. I could be working in a hospital or a clinic.
Frasier: Of course you could, Daphne, but maybe that's not what's important to you right now. I think you like being part of a family. What's wrong with that?
Daphne: Nothing, I suppose. Although my friends wonder how I can live with such demanding men?
Frasier: They call me demanding, do they?
Daphne: No. Actually they call you a pompous ass.
Frasier: Oh. But now you've learned that I'm not?
Daphne: No. I've learned to work around it.