Frasier: Everyone, I would like to introduce you to the newest member of our furniture family!
[Frasier reveals an exact copy of Martin's chair, minus all the duct tape that had been added over the years]
Martin: Oh! Where did you find this?
Frasier: You can't find that, Dad. It doesn't exist anymore. Which is why I contacted a master builder, showed him some photographs, and had him duplicate it. As for the material, I tracked down the original manufacturer, and once I got them to admit they made it, I had them reweave it!
Daphne: It must have cost a fortune.
Frasier: Yes. Ironically, this is now the most expensive piece of furniture in the entire apartment.

Frasier: What the hell's happened?
Martin: Now, don't get upset. I was oiling my chair, trying to get rid of the squeak, and I had a little spill.
Frasier: A little spill? I just this carpet cleaned!
Martin: Well, I'm sorry. It was an accident.
Frasier: Sure, Dad. "It was an accident."
Niles: It was an accident. I saw him step on it.
Frasier: Niles, you know as well as I do, there are no accidents. Just admit it, Dad, your latent hostility toward me has been building through the years, little by little, until you've finally struck the Achilles Heel of my decor, the Berber carpet!

Martin: Well, what's wrong with liking plain old coffee, the way God made it?
Frasier: Nothing. What is wrong is subjecting me to the same shop-worn bellyaching every time you come in here.
Martin: Well, excuse me for having an opinion you don't agree with. I thought this was America. Oh look, it is.