Frasier: You know, Dad, I was just struck by one of life's little ironies. I remember you taking me to the doctor, and now here I am taking you.
Martin: Yeah. I remember when I took you for your first tetanus shot, you were about five or six.
Frasier: Oh boy, was I scared. I remember you holding my hand.
Martin: Yeah. Bent over that table, dropped your little drawers. When the nurse gave you the shot, you took your mind off it by reciting the names of all of Puccini's operas. Right then, I knew you'd never be a cop.

Daphne: No, really, I've never had a serious boyfriend. No one's really been interested.
Niles: Men can be such pigs. [Niles starts to make a figure out of a napkin]
Daphne: It's not that people weren't trying to fix me up. Back in Manchester, me mum was steering me towards Reginald Glower, the butcher's son. Pasty little thing, never did take to him. I suppose I like my gents more on the manly side. Was that a little swan you made?
Niles: No, it was a B-52.

Daphne: Wait 'til your father gets here, I'll give him such a piece of my mind.
[Eddie rushes out of the bedroom, jumps over the furniture and heads to the front door]
Frasier: If only we had some way of knowing when he was about to arrive.

Niles: I know who you should see. Dr. Gary Newman. His office is in my building, he has a very successful practice, I saw a Lichtenstein hanging in his office.
Frasier: Ooh, Lichtenstein. He sounds perfect.

Frasier: I mean, there he was, walking down his walkway this morning and, he bends over to pick up his newspaper and bang! He drops dead of a heart attack. It's just- God, you know, I pick up my newspaper every day. And the Sunday Times is very heavy. I'm thinking of canceling.

Martin: Uh, Frasier, you've got something on your bathrobe.
Frasier: [finds a sticker] "Niles." The vultures are circling.

Frasier: Look, I'm sorry I've bothered you. I really just came to offer my sympathies.
Mrs. Newman: Oh no, wait. Um, Dr. Crane? I listen to you all the time, and, well, maybe you can help me? What would you tell someone who called into the show and said they can't get over why someone died? I keep running this over and over in my mind, and I just can't understand how someone like Gary, who did everything right, can just die. I can't make any sense of it.
Frasier: Mrs. Newman, I- I know you'd like me to come up with some grand answer to this whole thing. But I, I don't have one. There are none. That someone who consumes nothing but cigarettes and cheeseburgers all his life can live to be eighty-three, and then someone takes care of himself can die at forty-one. It's unfair. Believe me, there's no explanation for it. Believe me, I've checked. But, I suppose the best we can do is live for the little joys and surprises that life affords us. You can't spend your life being obsessed with death.
Mrs. Newman: You're not Jewish, are you?
Frasier: No. No, I'm not.

Frasier: Well, enough talk about death. Let's celebrate life with a bottle of Chateau Certan '75
Niles: Oh, no. Not the '75, I can't let you do that, that's far too good for the likes of us.
Frasier: Well, perhaps a bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau would be more appropriate.
[Niles places a sticker on the Chateau Certan '75]

Frasier: Pump iron? Niles, you don't even pump your own gas.

Frasier: Well, there is just one more duck to put in the row. I've done some research and I've discovered that most unexpected deaths occur in the home. And Daphne, this is where you come in, the actual finding of the body.
Daphne: Ooh, save the best part for me, eh? Well, that's all right. I'm a health care provider. I've had my fair share of patients die on me.
Martin: That's a comfort.