Roz: And here's the cough button in case you need to cough or clear your throat. And most important, here's an extra-long commercial to use if you need a bathroom break.
Niles: Thank you, but those won't be necessary. I have no cough reflex, and excellent bladder control.
Roz: It's true. All the good ones are married.

Roz: You're on in ten seconds and your first caller is Marcia.
Niles: Marcia. "Hello, Marcia, I'm listening." That is so trite. "Hello, Marcia, tell me where it hurts." No, no. "Hello, Marcia, I hear you." No.
[Roz points at Niles. He doesn't understand and points back. She points again. Niles gives her a thumbs up.]
Roz: [speaking through her mike] Good afternoon, Seattle!
Niles: Oh, yes! [on air] Hello! This is Dr. Niles Crane, filling in for my ailing brother, Dr. Frasier Crane. Although I feel perfectly qualified to fill Frasier's radio shoes, I should warn you that while Frasier is a Freudian, I am a Jungian. So there'll be no blaming Mother today.

Niles: Well, look. This is from Marta, our maid. It's a poultice you wear around your neck. The recipe comes from her remote mountain village in Guatemala.
Frasier: I can see why her village is remote.
Niles: Well, yes, it is pungent. But, by inhaling these herbs, many of the villagers live to be well over a hundred. Marta herself is seventy-eight, and you should see her scramble up the stairs when Maris rings her little bell.

Frasier: I just can't let that smarmy little chowhound do my show for another day. Oh God, anybody would be better. Niles. Niles, would you do my show for me?
Niles: Frasier, I think that fever of yours is making you delusional.
Frasier: Oh, no! I filled in for you when you were too sick to meet with your "Fear of Intimacy" group.
Niles: I wasn't sick. They were just getting too close.

Frasier: He was very generous to Bonnie Weems. Bought her a case of wine, asked her to let him have her timeslot when she was off on vacation. When she got back, she had been banished to the midnight to four a.m. slot!
Roz: What are you saying? He's trying to take our timeslot?
Frasier: I'm just saying we should watch our backs. How would you like to work from midnight to four a.m.? What would happen to your social life? Those are your peak hours.

Roz: Well, I'm sorry to hear that. Because I really think you should get your butt back down here. You were right about Gil, Frasier. He's lobbying for our slot. I was talking to Millie in Traffic and she overheard Gil talking to the station manager. It was all about how our timeslot is perfect for his show because it's mid-afternoon and everyone is making [haughty British accent] dinner plans!

Frasier: I've gotta get down there, go to that station, reclaim what's rightfully mine! There'll be no more filling in by anybody! No way, no how! No way, no-
Martin: Frasier, you're not going anywhere.
Frasier: Oh, who's going to stop me?
Martin: I am.
Frasier: Oh, how are you a man with a limp and a cane going to stop a man in the prime of his life?
[Martin pokes Frasier with a finger. He falls back to his bed, whimpering]
Martin: And I wasn't even leaning on my cane.

Roz: You OK, Frasier? Your eyes look a little glassy.
Frasier: I'm fine! It's just that the drugs I took have some minor slide effects.

Frasier: Hello, Seattle, I'm back! This is Dr. Frasier Crane. I promise I will never leave you again. So, let's take our first caller. [presses a button] Hello, I'm listening.
Robert: "Hi, Dr. Crane. Thanks for taking my call. I'm a little nervous, okay? My name is Robert."
Frasier: And your name is?
Robert: ... My name is Robert.
Frasier: Oh, I'm sorry. We've already had a Robert on the show today. Goodbye.

Daphne: Is there anything else you need?
Frasier: A little more ginger ale, please.
Daphne: Very well, then.
Frasier: Oh, Daphne, this time make it shaved ice, not cubes. And I don't like those straws. Can I have the bendy kind? And the saltines, they're too salty. I need the low-sodium.
Daphne: Your wish is my command.
Niles: Hello, Daphne, is he in pain?
Daphne: Not enough.