Martin: Hey, Fras, how was your dinner?
Frasier: Not since Quasimodo strolled the streets of medieval Paris have so many people uttered the phrase, "That poor man."

Niles: I met someone once flying home from college. I got bumped into first class, found myself sitting there next to a positively ravishing woman. She was a bit older and I was trying desperately to be suave, so when she leaned over and suggested we join the Mile High Club, rather than admit I was unfamiliar with the term, I whispered back, "I really don't travel enough to make that worthwhile." God, that was twenty years ago. Nope, still can't laugh about it.

Martin: Oh, yeah, you can't beat meeting somebody in a romantic way. That's the way it was with me and your mom.
Niles: You met Mother over the chalk outline of a murder victim.
Martin: So? It was romantic to us. Ever wonder why on our anniversary she'd make those gingerbread cookies with the legs kind of bent and the head kind of crooked?
Niles: We thought they were dancing.