Niles: Of course, I can't take care of him.
Frasier: Oh, yes, of course. Of course. Why?
Niles: Because Dad doesn't get along with Maris.
Frasier: Who does?
Niles: I thought you liked my Maris.
Frasier: I do. I like her from a distance. You know, the way you like the sun. Maris is like the sun, except without the warmth.

Niles: Let's get some lights on. [claps]
Frasier: Good Lord, what the hell is that?
Niles: Maris had it made after she lost power in a storm. Battery operated, works on a clapper so you can find it in the dark. Only problem was, the poor thing, try as she might, could never clap hard enough to activate it.

Frasier: I refuse to engage in a battle of wits with a man who's favorite t-shirt reads "Seattle Hooter Inspector".
Kate: Afraid of the competition?
Frasier: I am a doctor, I went ... to medical school. I will not embarrass myself by engaging in a grab for ratings.
Kate: You just announced to a half a million listeners that you are "filled to the brim with girlish glee." I think the H.M.S. Pinafore of embarrassment has sailed.

Frasier: Yes, I've tried dealing with this problem on my own but Bulldog insists on interrupting my show with his foolish pranks.
Kate: I heard.
Frasier: Yes, well I did not spend eight grueling years at Harvard to be mocked by that juvenile jackass.
Kate: Shameless.
Frasier: Oh, he's beyond shameless!
Kate: I'm talking about the way you manage to get Harvard into every conversation.
Frasier: Well, I'm sure you'll mention your alma mater, too, some day. When it's accredited.

Frasier: Well, that's one on me, or rather one on me and my call screener, Roz, whose ancestors were once heard remarking, "Oh, what a nice wooden horse, of course I'll sign for it."