TV Quotes

Daphne: I used to have the same problem when I was raising show rats.
Niles: You don't mean the nasty, plague-propagating vermin, do you?
Daphne: No. I mean purebred rats. As in Siamese or Himalayan or Husky. My most prized one was an Andalusian Blue named Lady Prissy and she wasn't sick a day in her life. So don't go blaming all rats because of a few bad apples.
Frasier: A few bad apples? Daphne, they spread a disease that nearly wiped out half the population of Europe.
Daphne: Shows what you know. Those were common European brown rats.
Frasier: Yes, but the point is-
Daphne: Oh, no, no, no. I'll sit here and listen to you prattle on about wine and opera. But when it comes to rats, you're in my house.

Frasier: Roz, I'm back.
Roz: Okay. She ditched her dress and she's hitting the sauce. What do you need, runway lights on the mattress?

Niles: Daphne, this place looks wonderful. And excellent choice of music. I love this aria.
Daphne: Yes, she has a gorgeous voice, doesn't she? It's a pity she never got quite the recognition of a Joan Sutherland or a Renata Tebaldi.
Niles: I had no idea you knew so much about sopranos.
Daphne: Yeah, well, you don't live with your brother for five years and not learn a thing or two about divas.

Martin: Yes, that was the day I came out. Lying in that alley, covered with blood, bullet in my hip and I said, "That's it! I'm gay, I like myself and I'm not living a lie anymore."
Edward: I had exactly the same experience when I came out.
[Edward places his hand on Martin's knee. Martin's eyes bug out and he looks to Frasier]
Edward: Not, exactly, perhaps. Yours was a bullet in the hip. For me, it was a Lufthansa steward named Gunther.

Frasier: Niles! Thank God you're here. Listen, there's something I need to discuss with you.
Niles: Oh, wait, wait, wait. I'm in the middle of composing a plea to Alfred Antin in the meter of Dr. Seuss.
Frasier: Who?
Niles: Theodore Geisel, the children's author. You know, "I do not like green eggs and ham, I do not like them, Sam-I-Am..."
Frasier: Yes, yes, I know who Dr. Seuss is, you ninny.

Frasier: Oh my God, Niles! Look...
Niles: Don't give it to me. Is that real?
Frasier: It certainly feels real.
Niles: Well, what's it doing under the floor?
Frasier: How the hell should I know? I wonder who it could be?
Niles: Well, perhaps it's a builder who got trapped during construction, or a, an exterminator who was overcome with fumes.
Frasier: Excellent hypotheses, Niles. But unfortunately, neither is plausible.
Niles: Why not?
Frasier: Because, Niles, when you die, your head doesn't pop off like a champagne cork. It remains attached to the spine.

Martin: Now, sit down. Your breakfast is ready.
Frasier: No, Dad. Dad, look, all I ever have is a bran muffin and a touch of yogurt.
Martin: Girly food. Besides, I already fixed your breakfast. Now, I made you eggs in a nest.
Frasier: Ah, yes, the Crane family specialty. Fried eggs swimming in fat, served in a hollowed-out piece of white bread. I can almost hear my left ventricle slamming shut as I speak.
Martin: You want cheese on that?
Frasier: No. I'd like to leave some blood flow for the clot to go swiftly to my brain.