Niles: [yawns] Forgive me. Olga and I were up till all hours at a party for the "Royal Shakespeare Company." I'm rubbing pretty impressive shoulders these days. And to think it's all because I have a small column.
Frasier: That would certainly be the Freudian interpretation.

Niles: If it's any consolation, I got fired from "The Monocle."
Frasier: Niles, I'm sorry.
Niles: I panned a wretched musical, not realizing the lead was the person who does Olga's hair.
Frasier: She fired you just to placate her hairdresser?
Niles: Electrolysist. And if you'd ever seen her in a sundress, you'd forgive her as I have.

Niles: If I were to review that attitude I would say it was a chilling portrait of malice and envy.
Frasier: Oh, Niles, I'm not the least bit envious that you get to spout off in that glorified cat-box liner.
Niles: You just can't stand it that my opinion means more than yours. That the arts community looks to me for my insight, my approval, my thumbs-up.
Frasier: I think we both know what your thumb's up these days.

Frasier: Go ahead, Niles, I know you were listening.
Niles: Well, I wish you'd lent her your Tennessee Williams's biography. She wouldn't have kept forgetting his name and calling him "Indiana Jones."

Gil: How could you do this to us?
Frasier: I had no idea she intended to stay.
Kenny: That's not what her mother told me.
Gil: And I thought I'd seen some cruel pranks in the army.

Roz: So, should we order a pizza?
Frasier: Sorry?
Roz: Those PSAs you promised you'd help me with are due tomorrow.
Frasier: Oh gosh, Roz, I really am sorry. You know, it seems Mrs. Delafield's daughter is coming here to join us as an intern. I promised Kenny I'd show her around and take her to dinner.
Roz: So, while I'm working late, eating my vending-machine dinner, you'll be out having a gourmet meal with some cute rich girl.
Frasier: Oh, you can make anything sound unfair.

Frasier: This is Roz, my producer. You know, Roz, I'll gladly do those promos if you would be so kind as to take Poppy to dinner and answer her questions.
Roz: Sure, if you don't get bored listening to me drone on about radio.
Frasier: Oh, I don't think there's much chance of that.

Martin: Well, we were just down in the basement and I saw another rat. I said, "Go get him, boy!" So just as he picked him up, had him in his teeth, shaking the life out of him, I hear this little bell, tinkling. And I thought, "That's funny, rats don't wear bells!"
Daphne: Oh, little Robbie Greenberg's missing hamster.
Frasier: Yes, I read that flyer. He was offering a ten dollar reward.
Martin: Well, the most we can claim at this point is about six-fifty.

Frasier: Niles!
Niles: Prepare to whoop like a sweepstakes winner. Cancel our dinner. I've scored us two seats, front row for the event of the season.
Frasier: You mean...?
Niles: Yes.
Frasier: But...?
Niles: I know.
Frasier: Niles.
Martin: [to Daphne] I love it when they do it this way, I can pretend it's a Seahawks game.

Frasier: My God, it's for the Cecilia Bartoli concert. My God, they've been sold out for months. How on earth did you score these tickets?
Niles: I simply phoned the box office and said this is Niles Crane, the new arts critic for "The Monocle."
Daphne: "The Monocle"? Isn't that that magazine they hand out to rich people in all the snootiest apartment buildings?
Niles: And the snootiest hotels.