Daphne: So what kind of hoity toity place did it end up being?
Frasier: It was a hell hole! They had the nerve to call it a day spa, when it's nothing more than a mere front for a bona fide luxury spa which taunts those kept at bay outside its golden door.
Martin: If you didn't go in, how do you know it's better?
Frasier: It had to be! The door was gold, ours was only silver. Gold is better than silver.
Niles: [muttering] Stupid silver.

Niles: Well, now you've opened it, that's mail theft.
Frasier: Nonsense.
Martin: What's going on?
Frasier: Nothing. Just another piece of Cam Winston's mail has found its way into our box. It's been happening a lot since we switched mailboxes. Even after I gave the postman a stern lecture.
Martin: Especially after.

Frasier: Anyway, it was an honest mistake. Cam and I are on all the same mailing lists. I'm sure mine is in his box. Besides, it's nothing personal, look, it's just an announcement for some place called La Porte d'Argent.
Martin: Probably just another froufrou restaurant or froufrou clothing store.
Frasier: No, no, no, this is not "froufrou," Dad, as evidenced by the manly scent of balsam.

Daphne: What's this about?
Martin: Oh, they're all worked up about some smelly invitation Frasier stole to some place they never heard of.
Daphne: Oh.
Frasier: Yes, but that's what's so intriguing, Dad, that there exists an exclusive place in Seattle that neither of us knows about.
Niles: It could be an art gallery, or a new haberdashery.
Martin: Or an Italian shoelace boutique.

Niles: What's happening?
Frasier: It's a machine. It's asking me to enter my six-digit access code. What'll I do?
Martin: Why don't you just punch in whatever keys spell out "SNOBBY"?
Niles: You know, it might be worth a try.

Frasier: [Noticing Niles enter the lobby] Cam! Cam Winston! There you are.
Niles: [in a deep voice] Hello, Frasier.
Frasier: You know, while I was waiting for you, I decided to test the mettle of this young man. I'm pleased to report that he follows the rules of La Porte D'Argent to the letter. [Frasier and Niles laugh haughtily] Anyway, I am a guest of Mr. Cam Winston's here. He told me to meet him here, gave me the invitation and here I am.
Niles: Yes, I'm Cam Winston and he's my guest and I asked him to meet me here.

Receptionist: I'm sorry Dr. Crane, you're not on the list, I can't let you in.
Frasier: But I have an invitation.
Receptionist: Yes, but you're not on the list.
Frasier: Yes, but I do have an invitation.
Receptionist: But you aren't on the list.
Frasier: Yes, well, if I were on the list, I wouldn't need an invitation, I'd just say "I'm on the list." Therefore, the invitation supersedes the list.
Receptionist: No, invitations are given out only to those on the list.
Frasier: Ah-ha. But you do concede that I do have a valid invitation?
Receptionist: Yes.
Frasier: Then it naturally follows that I would be on the list.
Receptionist: But you're not.
Frasier: Then how did I get the invitation?
Receptionist: I really don't know. You could have stolen it...
Frasier: Are you accusing me of deception?

Niles: I knew it was going to be good, but I had no idea it would be this good. I feel like I've been rubbed by angels.
Frasier: Niles, I just wish you had tried the vusattasen aqua-treatment. I feel as if I've had a rebirthing experience. I've never felt better in my life.
Niles: I'm so polished my entire body is squeaking.

Daphne: Rockford's dad reminds me of you.
Martin: What are you talking about?
Daphne: Rockford's dad. You're just like him, cranky but lovable.
Martin: The hell I am! I'm like Rockford.
Daphne: How'd you get that?
Martin: Well, come on. He solves crimes, I solved crimes. We're both in tune with the beat of the street. He's the kind of guy that men want to be and women want to be with. When this show first came out, everybody used to say I was like Rockford.
Daphne: I'm sorry, I don't see it. You still remind me of his dad.
Martin: Rocky? But he's old. ... Oh, I see.
Daphne: I didn't mean that. I just meant there's something about him that reminds me of you.
Martin: His oldness?

Roz: Hey, Frasier. Wait 'til you see this. It is so cool.
Frasier: Really? Well, I could use something to balm my wounds. Painful as it is, I've come to accept that I shall never pass through that spa's gold door.
Roz: Anyway, I was filing your new head shot...
Frasier: Yes?
Roz: And I started looking at your old ones, I went back to when you first started. [flipping through the head shots] Woo.
Frasier: What am I looking at?
Roz: Oh, it's like an animation of your hairline receding. Isn't that great? Okay, wait now, here's the good part: it's growing back! Receding. Growing back.
Frasier: Yes, yes, all right, Roz. That's enough! All right!