Frasier: Ah, yes. Another beautiful Saturday night. The moon is full, the city lights are twinkling, lovers steal kisses in the park. And here ... chez Crane, my father and his assistant sit hunched over twenty year-old photographs of a murdered hooker. [raises his glass] Life is a banquet.

Martin: You know what's always bugged me? This picture of the crime scene. The way Helen's written "help." Why would she do that?
Daphne: Well, I suppose the word "howdy" would have been a bit too cheery under the circumstances.

Niles: Oh, look at him. Do you see the sparkle in his eye? Oh, Frasier, he's like a little kid at Christmas.
Martin: Oh, jeez, what happened to my entry wound close-ups?
Frasier: Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la!

Daphne: He was headed down to the station house to present his theory.
Frasier: Oh, dear God, I wish he hadn't done that. You know, I've been turning it over in my mind all day. The more I think about it, the goofier it sounds. I mean, a monkey! Let's hope they didn't laugh him out of the station. Be one hell of way to end a thirty year police career.
Daphne: Oh, now, now, Dr. Crane. It's not the most outlandish theory in the world.
Frasier: You're right. I could have said it was a trained giraffe. I suppose it could have killed her by spitting a bullet at her, thus explaining the downward trajectory.

Bulldog: I caught the first hour of your show today. If that chick whining about sexual harassment called my show, I'd say "Listen doll, you don't want people snapping your bra, don't wear one."
Frasier: Brilliant in its simplicity.

Bulldog: Why is it the ones who want it the most put up the biggest struggle?
Roz: Because, when I do finally give in, I want us to enjoy it all the more.
Roz: That is, if I'm not too distracted by the fact that every man on Earth has died.
Bulldog: Almost had her there.
Frasier: Yes, it could have gone either way.

Frasier: Come on, Niles, look, it'll give you a chance to see the Tacoma Dome.
Niles: I've already seen it. They had a home show there once. You know, that's where I got that idea to stencil a grape arbor on our Wilkes dresser.
Frasier: I'm a teamster compared to you.

Frasier: Wait a minute. Are we saying here that a murder was committed by a monkey?
Niles: It's not so very far-fetched! It could be Brisbane's diabolical homage to the Edgar Allan Poe story "Murders in the Rue Morgue." It's all about an orangutan who goes about the rooftops of Paris murdering people.

Martin: Oh, I don't know what I was thinking of. I've been walking around all afternoon just trying to figure out how I came up with such a half-assed theory.
Frasier: Dad, it wasn't your fault. I did it.
Martin: You killed her?
Frasier: No.

Daphne: Oh, I'm sorry I ever doubted you. But, then, you yourself were beginning to wonder if a monkey could really commit a murder.
Frasier: Well, I may have momentarily doubted it, but from time to time I have to be reminded to trust my gift.