Frasier: Very well. You leave me no alternative but to call in my marker.
Niles: What marker?
Frasier: Oh, I think you know.
Niles: You wouldn't.
Frasier: I would.
Niles: You can't!
Frasier: I will.
Niles: That was three years ago.
Frasier: I don't recall there being any statute of limitations. I distinctly recall that when you asked me to go out with Maris's sister, you said that you would owe me one forever.
Niles: But you only spent one evening with Brie. That hardly compares with what you're asking me to endure.
Frasier: Oh? Shall I refresh your memory? Midway through the opera her ermine muff began to tremble. As it turned out, she had used it to smuggle in her adorably incontinent Chihuahua. Just as I thought we'd reached the low point of the evening I suddenly felt a sandpaper tongue licking my earlobe. Alas, it did not belong to little Hervé! Fortunately my shriek coincided with the on-stage murder of Gondolfo.

Roz: I bet you're feeling pretty good about yourself?
Niles: Suddenly I'm being revered as a god by the same troglodytes who, in junior high school, tried to pack me into my own briefcase. It's glorious.
Roz: Oh, I almost forgot the best part. Reggie sent these tickets for tonight's game over.
Niles: Oh. Well, I suppose I can't disappoint my new fans. Tell me, does one still wear a white sweater jauntily tied around the neck to these things?
Roz: If one wants to get the crap beaten out of one.

Linda: "So you can talk to him? Good. I'm putting him on the line right now. Go ahead!"
Niles: All right. Murray, you're dealing with your problem in a very self-destructive manner. It won't be solved by refusing to eat. Do you hear me?
[After a brief silence, a cat can be heard meowing]
Linda: "Oh my God, it's working. He's eating! Dr. Crane, what did you say to him?"
Niles: Well, I'd like to tell you but that would violate doctor-cat confidentiality.