Frasier: Oh, Niles, why do you even care about those people? In your hour of need they pretend you don't even exist. They treat you like you're a leper, a non-person.
Niles: But I really, really like them. I know, I know. It makes me sound pathetic. But I'm newly separated. These people have been my social circle for ten years. Frasier, they're my tribe.
Frasier: Well, I hate to break this to you, "Waltzes With Snobs," but ... they have left you on the mountaintop to die.

Frasier: Guess who? Daphne, um, I don't want you entertaining here but I also don't want you to move out.
Daphne: Oh, I see. So you want me to stay, but just not have a personal life?
Frasier: Well...
Daphne: No, no, no. That works out fine for me. I'll just spend all day waiting on you and your father, then in the evenings retire to me room, wrap meself in an Afghan and wait for the morning. And if my whimpering gets too loud for you, you can just have me fixed like Eddie.

Frasier: Oh, Dad. This is a small thing but you left the sponge in the sink again.
Martin: So?
Frasier: Well, as I mentioned last evening, if it stays wet, not only does it begin to smell but it becomes a breeding ground for bacteria.
Martin: So?
Frasier: So, if I were to, say, wipe up that salsa that you spilled on the table just now, I would be leaving behind bacteria such as salmonella, listeria, flagella. Now wouldn't that bother you?
Martin: Yeah, I guess you're right. It would bother me. I wouldn't dream of touching that sponge now.
[Martin whistles. Eddie comes and licks the table clean.]
Frasier: Ah, yes. Our own foul-breathed, little handy-wipe.