Frasier: Hello, Rachel. I'm listening.
Rachel: "Oh, thanks for taking my call, Dr. Crane. Um, I'm involved in sort of a strange love triangle."
Frasier: [off-air, to Roz] Oh goody, this is sweeps week!
Rachel: "You see, I recently married a widower. Now, Phil's a real good man, he's a kind man. But there's just one little problem. He insists on keeping an urn with his late wife's ashes on the dresser in our bedroom."
Frasier: That is a definite yikes.
Rachel: "See, I knew that wasn't normal. He says it is, but I knew it wasn't!"
Frasier: All right, Rachel, Rachel, now listen. Before you go off half-cocked, let's try to remember this is a very sensitive issue for your husband. Obviously those ashes mean a very great deal to him. And although I don't believe it's appropriate that he keep them in the bedroom, I suppose you could maybe move them to another room?
Rachel: "Well, I guess I could try that. Maybe I'll move them into the guest room. [sound of crockery breaking] Oops."
Frasier: Rachel, what happened?
Rachel: "Oh, oh, nothing. I gotta run, Dr. Crane. I've got some vacuuming to do."
Frasier: Well, as Rachel helps Phil's wife off the floor, we have reached the end of our second hour.

Niles: I know you'd like to believe we're still the same devilish sprigs we always were. Sitting on mother's davenport in our tweeds and tans, listening to the Texaco symphonic hour. The cold-hearted reality is, you're middle-aged.
Frasier: Niles, I'm forty-one. That's hardly middle-aged. Middle age is more like fifty, fifty-five.
Niles: Only if you live to be one hundred and ten.

Frasier: I know this piece backwards and forwards.
Niles: Perhaps if you start at the end you'll have better luck.