Martin: Whoa. There's a lady over there with a telescope looking back at us!
Frasier: What shall we do?
Daphne: Hide!
Frasier: I knew it. I knew it. Every time I do something bad, I get caught.

Martin: Wait. She's writing something else. "Is that Dr. Crane from the radio hiding there behind you?"
Frasier: It does not say that. [gasps] It does say that. [Frasier waves] Hello!

Niles: You know Brewster Cale? The pompous twit who is the president of our wine club? Well, at our meeting the other night I convinced some of my fellow psychiatrists to play a little prank on him. When he thought he was tasting the Chateau Petrus, he was in fact sipping a Forcas Dupres. You see, we'd switched the labels.
Frasier: What scamps you are!
Niles: Well- Well, there he was, proclaiming the Petrus to be the superior wine and of course none of us could contain our laughter.
Frasier: His face must have turned redder than a "Piechoné Logeavie."
Niles: Well of course, as so often happens, rough house turns to tears. At the end of the evening, Brewster tended his resignation.
Frasier: That must have put a damper on the evening.
Niles: Well, not really. I'm the new president.

Niles: Or maybe Dad was telling the truth and she just wasn't hit type. If only we knew someone who was. I know! Maris's lovely Aunt Patrice is in town visiting from Washington D.C. Maybe we should set Dad up with her?
Frasier: Niles. Niles, I've met Aunt Patrice. The woman is a loon.
Niles: Frasier, do this for me. Every time Aunt Patrice comes to visit, Maris makes all these plans and then she dives under the duvet with a two-week migraine, and I'm left holding the bag, literally and figuratively.

Niles: Yes, so I've had Patrice all to myself and we've had a great time, haven't we?
Aunt Patrice: Well, if you call sitting in your waiting room for four hours reading old magazines a great time, well then yes. We had a laugh riot.
Niles: Oh, now I know where Maris gets her sense of humor!

Martin: What the hell was that?
Daphne: I feel sorry for the poor thing.
Martin: I feel sorry for Niles.
Daphne: That's who I'm talking about.

Frasier: Oh Dad, you can't feel guilty about that. Gee, Mom's been gone for six years now. Your feelings for Irene are totally separate from your feelings for Mom. You know, if she was here, if she could tell you, she'd want you to get on with your life.
Martin: Okay. When I'm ready. Thanks, Frasier. You know- I guess I don't say it often enough but you're a good kid.
Frasier: Well, thanks Dad. You know, there's something I don't say often enough-
Martin: There's nothing you don't say often enough.
Frasier: Right, Dad.

Aunt Patrice: D'goo y'goo sp'geak g-sp'geak?
Niles: Oh Lord, I was afraid of this.
Martin: What?
Aunt Patrice: [slower] D'goo y'goo sp'geak g-sp'geak?
Martin: Niles, I think she's having a stroke or something.
Niles: No, no Dad. It's just G-speak.
Martin: Come again?
Niles: It's something Maris and Aunt Patrice love to try out at parties.
Aunt Patrice: Yes, you see, you just put a "g" in every syllable. So you would be, "M'garg-tin Cr'gane." Just say it with me, come on... M'garg-tin-
Niles: I don't think Dad's interested.
Patrice: Oh, b'ge ag sp'gort, Gniles.
Frasier: What did she say?
Niles: She said, "Be a sport, Niles."
Aunt Patrice: B'ge, agus, gesport, geda!
Frasier: Dad, do you still have your billy club?
Martin: It's in my top drawer.

Aunt Patrice: Oh, Niles, I told you we shouldn't have just stopped by. These people have plans.
Niles: How I envy them.

Frasier: You know, I saw what you just did.
Martin: What did I do?
Frasier: When Patrice went to hug you, you moved away.
Martin: [laughs] Well, wouldn't you?
Frasier: No, Dad, now. You moved away from the window. You didn't want Irene to see you with another woman. You still care about her.
Martin: Ah, go chase yourself.
Frasier: Dad, you do. There's something stopping you from having a relationship with this woman. Now, what is it?
Martin: You're not going to let go of this thing, are you?
Frasier: No, I'm not!
Martin: Alright. Irene's middle name is Rose.
Frasier: So? Rose is a nice name. Rose was mother's middle name. [realises] Oh.
Martin: Yeah.