Niles: I don't think she likes me.
Frasier: Niles, it isn't a question of liking or not liking. She despises you.
Niles: Really? Why should I warrant such strong emotions? I barely acknowledge her existence.
Frasier: I think you may be onto something there, Sherlock!

Frasier: Oh, joy. There's nothing like the smell of a wet dog to work up the appetite for supper!

Niles: Frasier, are you all right? You've been in there forever.
Frasier: Oh, I tried that damn hand cream. I was so oily I couldn't even get a grip on the doorknob. I had to wait to be rescued. Finally, when some guy came in I said, "Oh God, am I glad to see you." I can't even begin to describe the look he gave me. [A large man walks by giving Frasier a look mixed with fear and disgust] There it is.

Frasier: And you know, sometimes I do see the fruits of my labor. You know, just the other night, Dad was watching TV and I had fallen asleep on the couch. And suddenly I stirred, felt something on my head, and Dad was standing above me stroking my hair.
Niles: Dad?! Did he say anything?
Frasier: Well, he said, "Don't think it's time you got a hair cut? You're starting to look like Bozo!" I know he was only covering though. But what do you think?
Niles: Probably wouldn't hurt to get a trim.
Frasier: No! Do you think he was covering?
Niles: Of course he was covering. You know Dad. Tough as nails on the outside, but on the inside one giant ... spike.

Frasier: Well you know, as long as we're picking at each other's scabs here, I found another one of Eddie's chew toys in my sweater cubby the other day. Hairs all over my favorite pullover. I know he sleeps in there when I'm not home!
Martin: It serves you right for keeping your sweaters in a place called "the cubby."
Frasier: Oh. Well, that's it, my bedroom is off limits to this fleabag.

Frasier: Do you realize that today marks a year since I moved here from Boston?
Niles: Really? A year! It seems like yesterday Dad moved in with you.
Frasier: Isn't funny how two people can have distinct, opposite impressions of the same event?

Frasier: What's the matter?
Roz: You think you're going to sit down with someone and have a cup of coffee and that they might, just might lead you to something like, oh I don't know, a life. Suddenly, the trap door opens and you're right back in Roz's world!
Niles: How did it go so wrong so quickly?
Roz: Hmm. Simple. He didn't want to date me. He wanted to convert me! I don't have anything against religious people. I don't care if they're Jewish, or Jehovah Witness or Buddhist. I am ecumenical, I embrace men of all faiths!
Frasier: If only it stopped there.

Waitress: I'm sorry, sir, no dogs allowed.
Martin: [Feigns blindness] What?
Waitress: Oh, I'm sorry.
Niles: It's okay. It's okay.
Martin: [feels Niles' face:] Niles?
Niles: Hello, Dad.

Daphne: I don't know what's wrong with him. Lately, he's had a face as long as a wet weekend. Yesterday, when I insisted he do his stretching exercises, he told me I could stick me feet behind me head and spin like a top.
Frasier: Oh well, the best thing to do is to just ignore him when he gets like that. Isn't that right, Niles? Niles?
Niles: I'm sorry, Frasier. For some reason I'm feeling a little dizzy.

Frasier: Look, why don't we just change the subject from Dad, and talk about something else.
Niles: Absolutely. Pick a new topic. Something light and frothy.
Frasier: I agree. ... Are you in love with Daphne? [Niles spits his drink out] That's a little frothier than I had in mind.
Niles: That preposterous! I refuse to dignify that question with an answer. [Frasier stares at him] I don't know. There, I said it. There, are you happy? Oh, why did you have to hire Venus herself? Couldn't you have found some beefy, East-European scrub woman who reeked of ammonia?
Frasier: Well, I asked, but it was an Olympic year. The agency was fresh out.