Frasier: Daphne, is that university library open all night?
Daphne: I think so, why do you ask?
Frasier: Oh, for God's sake. Do you think I'm going to let my little brother humiliate me tomorrow?
Martin: What are you talking about?
Frasier: Dad, he is smarter than I am. Niles will be sitting there rambling on to the geniuses about the cosmos, black holes, matter, antimatter, and I won't matter at all.

Niles: What is this, Daphne?
Daphne: I'm chatting on-line with Donny. [the computer beeps] Oh, what's he saying?
Niles: Er, [reads] "I can't wait to come home and see my wittle Engwish cwumpet." Apparently he has some sort of typing impediment.

Daphne: I still can't get over how much they've spent at that auction.
Martin: Oh, they've always tried to one-up each other.
Daphne: I suppose all brothers are like that. Mine certainly were. Everything was a contest. Who could the run the fastest, jump the highest. They even had this strange one where they'd take little brother Michael, put him in a potato sack and see who could roll him the farthest over the frozen lake out back. Oh, they loved that game. Until that year the spring thaw set in early and poor Michael went right through the ice. Oh, they caught hell for that one, they did. Caught it worse a week later when Michael's toe finally fell off. Michael cried and cried until they told him to put it under his pillow for the toe fairy. Then when he got five quid for it, why it was all they could do to stop him from sawing off the rest of them! [laughs]
Martin: [shouting to Frasier and Niles] What's keeping you guys with that box?!

Niles: So, how long did we last the lunch?
Frasier: Well, not too long. Nine thousand dollars doesn't buy the leisurely lunch it used to.
Niles: Wait a minute, I thought it was eight thousand.
Frasier: No, no, you knocked over the aquarium on the way out. You know, whenever I feel envy about your IQ again, I'll just conjure up the image of you sprawled out on the bed of live koi, weeping and desperately trying to revive that little plastic diver.

Frasier: You know, they say Quinn is quite witty. In nuclear physics circles, he is referred to as "the half life of the party."

Niles: You know, I'm surprised you let him keep that out there.
Frasier: Oh, well, yeah, it's a bit of an eyesore, and frankly kind of a fire hazard. But what the hell? It makes him happy.
Niles: You lodged an anonymous complaint with the building, didn't you?
Frasier: It'll be gone by Thursday.
Niles: That's nice.

Frasier: Well, I guess she's just a very wealthy person that put up a lot of money, right?
Roz: I thought she had some kind of disease?
Niles: I always thought she was a scientist doing research.
Martin: So, in other words, it could have been called... the Eddie Eddie-mund Foundation, so long as there was
fancy food on silver platters.

Niles: Dad. Do you know what our IQs are?
Martin: No, but I got a pretty good idea at that auction tonight.

Frasier: Have you seen anything exciting to bid on?
Niles: Well, no. It's mostly the same items as last year. A day of beauty with internationally-known stylist Raphael.
Frasier: Yes, I see Missy Cromwell put down for that.
Niles: Well, can you blame her? Her last day of beauty was during the Johnson administration.

Niles: It looks like I have some competition for this luncheon. An Alistair Mowbray doubled my bid to five hundred dollars. I've heard that name before...
Frasier: Yes, it sounds familiar to me, too. Wait a minute, isn't he that young, ruthless software tycoon?
Niles: Pfft. Great.
Frasier: Well, it's no use competing with those deep pockets. But, you know, Niles, this vase here deserves a second look.
Niles: Wait a minute. Mowbray, wasn't that the nom de plume you used in prep school for your society column?
Frasier: What a remarkable coincidence.