Daphne: That was a very nice thing to say.
Martin: Yeah, he's a good kid.
Daphne: The only strange part is, I could have sworn Irene's middle name was Marie.
Martin: No, it isn't.
Daphne: I can go and check. I still have all our notes in the trash.
Martin: All right. All right, I had to tell him something. Look, I don't know why, but he just won't believe me when I tell him that Irene just isn't my type.
Daphne: You sure she isn't?
Martin: You gonna get on my back, too?
Daphne: No, but I was just wondering if the reason why things didn't work out between you and Irene was well-
Martin: What?
Daphne: Well, maybe if you weren't just a little bit self-conscious about your hip?
Martin: That's ridiculous.
Daphne: Well, I'm glad to hear that. Because you really don't have anything to be self-conscious about, you know. With that silvery mane, twinkling blue eyes and whisky voice, you're quite a package.
Martin: Yeah, I'm quite a catch.
Daphne: You are. And you know as well as I do, history is full of sexy limpers. For instance, Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Of course, he didn't limp so much as roll. Ooh, I know, Toulouse-Lautrec. Although he was rather a little person. Still, he did do rather well with the ladies. Of course, they were all prostitutes. But then he was French and there's no explaining their taste.
Martin: What's your point?
Daphne: I guess I don't have one. It's just me running on the way I do. But there is one last little thing, I did notice that every time you went to the telescope to see Irene, you hid your cane.
Martin: I just put it off to the side so I wouldn't trip over the damn thing.
Daphne: I knew there was a good reason. It must feel awful silly when that cane trips you up.

Martin: Alright, alright, Daphne. See if I've got this tie on right?
Daphne: It just needs a minor adjustment. What's all this hair on it?
Martin: The only way I can get the knot right is if I tie it on Eddie first.

Frasier: Well, I don't think public office is for Dad, but, you know, maybe I can find him a hobby or something. Any suggestions?
Roz: Well, in her spare time, Mom likes to water-ski a little. She hikes, oil paints- Oh, she likes archaeology. She's on a dig in Honduras right now.
Frasier: Well, maybe I could get him a wood-burning set.

Daphne: I think you're dad's going to love it.
Frasier: Yeah, me too. You know, I was walking through the hobby shop and I saw this and it was, like, "Eureka!" I said to myself- I actually said, "Eureka!"

Frasier: Ah, yes. There are a million stories in the naked city. Now, if we could just find a naked one.
Daphne: Dr. Crane! You naughty boy! Peeking in on other people's privacy.
Frasier: Oh, Daphne, really. I mean, if people were so concerned about their precious privacy, would they leave their blinds open at the certain angle where you can see the mirror over the mantel that reflects down the hall to the waterbed in the back room?

Martin: You know, I saw on the news, there's a bunch of falcons nesting in the eaves of the Columbia Tower. Maybe I can watch them from here.
Frasier: Dad, dad. Forget the falcons. You can see everything that's going on in that apartment building over there.
Martin: Hey, I'd lock people up for that kind of behavior.
Frasier: Hey, it's perfectly innocent. Just think of it as having like 100 more channels to watch.

Daphne: Just look at them, people going about their lives. There's an old couple watching the telly. Ah, just next door, an attractive young woman is working at a computer, while below her a burly man is using a beach towel to sop up a large pool of blood. Oh my, God!
Martin: What? [Martin and Frasier butt heads as they rush to the telescope]
Frasier: Oh, Daddy!
Martin: Nah, that's tomato juice, you can see the can on the counter. You were right about that woman on the computer, though, she is a looker!
Frasier: Ah, you see, there's a voyeur in all of us.

Daphne: I say we make a strict rule, though. If anybody starts doing anything nasty, we move on. Agreed? [silence] I said "Agreed?"
Frasier: Yeah.
Martin: Yeah.

Frasier: Dad, you shouldn't encourage this person. I don't really want people looking in on our lives here. I don't think I made my bed today.

Daphne: Is she writing anything else?
Martin: Yeah. "My name is Irene."
Daphne: Her name's Irene.
Frasier: Thank you.