Niles: I'll have a grande half-caf latte, with a whisper of cinnamon. And for my father, plain coffee. I cannot emphasize the word "plain" enough. No foam, no cinnamon, no exotic flavors. If it is not plain, I take no responsibility for the consequences.
Waitress: How about a biscotti?
Niles: All right. But when you bring it, call it a cookie.

Waitress: Here we are. One latte, one coffee, and one "cookie."
Martin: I think they call this thing a biscotti.
Niles: No need to talk down to the man. Off you go!

Roz: Damn it, Frasier! Don't worry, you're not going to get a ticket. You're a celebrity, use a little juice.
Frasier: Oh, I refuse to do anything of the sort.
Roz: Well, enjoy traffic school.
Frasier: Good evening, officer. I'm Dr. Frasier Crane. If there's a problem, I'm listening.
Maureen: You were going 62 in a 40-mile zone. [shines her flashlight at Roz, half-dressed, in the back] Well, this is interesting. Usually both people are in the backseat.
Frasier: It's not what you think. See, we were just coming back from KACL, where I do my radio show.
Maureen: Uh-huh.
Frasier: You see, we ran a little late, because I was on with a very troubled caller, with a very complex psychological problem... on my radio show.
Maureen: Hey, wait a minute. You're Dr. Frasier Crane.
Frasier: Drat! My cover is blown.
Maureen: I love your show. I listen to it all the time.
Frasier: Oh well, thank you very much It's always nice to-
Maureen: License and registration, please.
Frasier: Be arrested by a fan.

Frasier: You know, Dad, I had a nice little birthday bonus today. On my way home, I was pulled over for speeding by a very pretty policewoman, who let me off. I got the distinct impression that she found me attractive. Now, that sort of thing happens, doesn't it?
Martin: Oh, sure. I was always leaning against somebody's window thinking, "that bloody chainsaw in the backseat looks kind of iffy, but she's got a cute smile!"

Martin: Her name's Maureen Cutler, and she usually goes to McGinty's after work. Charlie said she's probably there now.
Frasier: Thanks, Dad.
Martin: Are you thinking of going?
Frasier: Well, I don't know. A police bar? If I go in there alone, I'll stand out like a sore thumb.
Niles: All right, I'll go.
Martin: Sit down, Niles, I'll go with him.

Martin: You know, after all these hoity-toity, caviar-sucking egghead types you've been dating, I think a lady cop would be a nice breath of fresh air.
Frasier: Oh, all right, I'll go. Just give me a second, I'll put some fresh collar-stays in, and-oh, oh, I've got a fabulous brand-new cashmere jacket I've been dying to premiere.
Martin: Oh, yeah. This is gonna work.

Maureen: How come you left the force?
Martin: Well, I uh, got shot by an armed suspect.
Maureen: I'm sorry.
Martin: No, it's all right.
Maureen: So, do you miss it?
Martin: Nah, how attached can you get to a hip?

Niles: Dad, I want you to know I'm not only deeply touched, but I consider this a watershed moment in our relationship!
Martin: Great. See, the thing is-
Niles: All my life, it seems you've always turned to Frasier. "Frasier, Frasier, Frasier!"
Martin: Niles, can I talk?
Niles: I'm listening.

Martin: Well, anyway, uh, you remember the other night, Frasier's policewoman?
Niles: Mmm-hmm.
Martin: Well, we found her at the bar, and, uh, well, she came on to me.
Niles: No.
Martin: Yeah.
Niles: You?
Martin: Yeah.
Niles: Was she drunk?

Daphne: Seems a shame to hang around here. I mean, I would have thought you'd have taken an opportunity like this to, I don't know... go down to McGinty's?
Charlotte: Oh, to see his new lady friend, you mean?
Frasier: Ah. Well, I see I've been quite the hot topic over the teapot.