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!

Frasier: Forty-three is off to a rousing start. Remember that policewoman I was interested in?
Roz: Yeah?
Frasier: Well, she's dating my father!
Roz: Your father? Well, never mind that. I know just what will take your mind off of it. I've got something really funny in my booth.
Frasier: I spent the last hour wandering the streets, trying to take assessment of my life. Do you know how long it's been since I've slept with a woman? Seven months!
Roz: Frasier.
Frasier: All right, nine months!
Roz: I really don't think we should talk about that right now!
[Roz closes the door, against the protests off the colleagues hiding in Roz's booth]
Frasier: Oh, sure, fine, you can't spare me five minutes to talk about my problems, when every day I drop what I'm doing to be your personal Wailing Wall. "Frasier, he stopped calling me." "Frasier, he wants his key back." "Frasier, his girlfriend is having me followed!"
Roz: I'm sorry. [Roz goes and opens the door again] So nine months, huh?
Frasier: Nine long, long, months. You know who that woman was?
Roz: Who?
Frasier: Edna, from Accounting. The next day, she dumped me. I tell you, Roz, I'm starting to feel nostalgic for that summer in my twenties when I was impotent. [Roz walks into her booth, Frasier follows] The only comfort I have now is knowing that my humiliation can't possibly get any worse!
All: Surprise!
Frasier: Hi, Edna.