Frasier: All right, young animal, learn from the master. Now, follow these time-honored traditions, and you too might get lucky with that young Pekinese peach you've been eyeing in the park. Now, for mood, Vivaldi. And then, for lighting, not so bright as to show the wrinkles, not so dark as to make her think you're hiding anything. And then finally, and leaving nothing to chance, Pouilly-Fuissë, 1992. The nectar of the gods. Dear God, I could teach a course.

Frasier: Roz, I'm going to tell you something I didn't find out until I became a father. You don't just love your children. You fall in love with them. It's that same rush, that same overwhelming desire to see them, to hold them, and bore other people to tears with every detail about them.
Roz: Oh, my God. I'm gonna have a baby. Someone is gonna call out for "Mom" and it's gonna be me. I'm really scared. What if I can't do this by myself?
Frasier: But, Roz, you're not all by yourself. I'm here.
Roz: Oh, thank you, Frasier. [hugs him]
Frasier: And I'll be available for you in whatever way you wish, from taking you out to dinner tonight, to that moment in the delivery room when you say, "Welcome to the world little Jimmy," or "little Sally," or dare I hope "little Frasier?"
Roz: Oh my God, I think I'm gonna be sick.
Frasier: I guess I got a little carried away there.
Roz: No, I mean I'm gonna hurl!

Sam: Excuse me, sir, I couldn't help overhearing, may I help you out here?
Frasier: If you hold her down, I can do the rest.
Sam: Well, hopefully, that won't be necessary.

Frasier: Oh, Roz, you got my message.
Roz: Yeah, you said you had good news. What's up?
Frasier: More important, what's down?
Roz: Oh, fun. Wordplay.
Frasier: No, no, the ratings are out for KACL's first six months of all-salsa radio.
Roz: And they were lousy?
Frasier: They aspire to lousy.

Martin: And what are you smirking at?
Frasier: Oh, I'm just musing about the timeless moments that bind a father to a son. Game of catch, trip to a fishing hole, shared rain forest mud facial.

Frasier: Excuse me, ah. I suppose you noticed I was staring at your table and I was just wondering if that gentleman you're with, is he your husband?
Mia: No.
Frasier: Boyfriend?
Mia: No.
Frasier: Oh, wonderful.
Mia: Would you like me to introduce you? He just broke up with someone.

Frasier: Niles, is that Regan and Poppy leaving just now?
Niles: It was, wasn't it?
Frasier: I want you to go after her.
Niles: What?
Frasier: Yes, I won't stand in your way.
Niles: No, Frasier, I would feel better if you went after her.
Frasier: No, I couldn't do that to you.
Niles: I think we're both feeling the same thing.
Frasier: I know we are ... you noble bastard.
Niles: Right back at you.

Niles: Now, we should probably talk strategy before the guests get here.
Frasier: Yes, all right. We don't want to pounce. Let's let them get settled in, have a few cocktails, and when they're sufficiently relaxed comfortable, we'll shear them like Delilah.

Reggie: Frasier, the place looks wonderful.
Frasier: Thank you.
Reggie: I love that painting.
Frasier: Really? Well, it's hardly as impressive as that portrait Hockney did of your wife.
Reggie: You like it? Make me an offer.
Frasier: Excuse me?
Reggie: Between you and me, I'm getting hammered by margin calls. Need a watch?

Frasier: Now, we've got to appear casual.
Niles: All right, all right. Should we start with a little small talk?
Frasier: Perhaps, perhaps. Oh, yes, I remember an aphorism that's usually attributed to Santayana, but I have my own little version...
Niles: We've go to get out there right now.
Frasier: Just give me the chance to get the words right. "Money can not so enrich a man..."
Niles: She's talking to Dad.
Frasier: Let's get the hell out there.