Roz: Ever heard of Lupe Velez?
Frasier: Who?
Roz: Lupe Velez. The movie star in the '30s. Well, her career hit the skids so she decided she'd make one final stab at immortality. She figured if she couldn't be remembered for her movies, she'd be remembered for the way she died. And all Lupe wanted was to be remembered. So, she plans this lavish suicide. Flowers, candles, silk sheet, white satin gown, full hair and make-up, the works. She takes the overdose of pills, lays on the bed and imagines how beautiful she's going to look on tomorrow's front page. Unfortunately, the pills don't set well with the enchilada combo plate she sadly chose as her last meal. She stumbles to the bathroom, trips and goes head-first into the toilet. And that's how they found her.
Frasier: Is there a reason you're telling me this story?
Roz: Yes. Even though things may not happen like we planned, they can work out anyway.
Frasier: Remind me again how it worked for Lupe, last seen with her head in the toilet.
Roz: All she wanted was to be remembered. Will you ever forget that story?

Frasier: I have someone here with me today, someone you haven't seen for quite a while. There's something she'd like to tell you, something she's wanted to tell you for a very, very long time. Mrs. Mulhern?
Mrs. Mulhern: You little whore!
Nora: Mother!
Mrs. Mulhern: So, you thought you could get away from me, did you? Thought you could leave me to rot in that dump without barely enough cash for a bottle of Mateus. You'll pay for that, missy!
Roz: I was wrong, Frasier! Your way is better!

Frasier: Gee, so what do you think of the place? Is it everything you imagined it would be?
Roz: Well, to be frank, Frasier, I don't spend my idle hours imagining how you live. But I did expect lots of beige. And look, I was right.

Niles: Don't touch! The smallest smudge decreases its value.
Frasier: Oh, Niles, guess what thriving Seattle night spot is closing its doors.
Niles: Roz, you're moving.
[Roz takes Niles' rare book and licks the cover]

Frasier: Listen, there's something I need to confess to you. Now, as much as I hoped that you would get the job, there was a very small part of me - and a very selfish part - that hoped you wouldn't.
Roz: Oh, that's not bad. That's really kinda sweet.
Frasier: Oh, I'm glad you feel that way. Because I happened to mention those feelings to Bebe.
Roz: Bebe? You told Bebe?
Frasier: Just in passing.
Roz: Oh, great. She torpedoed me, didn't she?
Frasier: Yes. She told Doug that I'd quit if you got the job.
Roz: I don't believe this.
Frasier: Well, I'm glad to see that you're as mad at her as I am.
Roz: I'm mad at you!
Frasier: Me?
Roz: How could you have done that?
Frasier: Well, it was just an offhand remark, how was I to know how she'd react?
Roz: She's Bebe! If you had said you liked my eyes, they would have been on your desk tomorrow in a Tiffany box.

Frasier: Ah, Dr. Nora.
Nora: Such a frosty tone. Is something the matter?
Frasier: I have just one question—
Roz: What kind of vicious, judgmental, name-calling, machete-mouthed bitch are you?
Frasier: I was going for the less feisty version.

Frasier: As it turns out, after I left the hospital some poor devil used my name to jump the line and he dropped dead of a heart attack. I must say, it does seem a bit strange having plunged all of Seattle, albeit temporarily, into so much grief.
Roz: I know I'll never forget where I was when I heard you had died. I was out on the street. There was this crowd watching a television through a department store window, and before I knew it, we were weeping and hugging each other.
Frasier: Very amusing, Roz!
Roz: And then it began to rain, and I had this feeling that all the angels were crying.
Frasier: Yes, all right, Roz!

Gertrude: It's a bloody miracle we're here in one piece what with the way you drive.
Roz: I'm better at it when someone's not screaming in my ear.
Gertrude: Well, in my day people didn't drive so recklessly. Do you know why?
Alice: Is it because you rode dinosaurs?
Gertrude: You should talk to your daughter.
Roz: [to Alice, after Gertrude storms off] When we get home, you're getting ice cream.

Roz: I don't see her. Maybe she went back out. Oh, wait. I see her coat on a hat rack.
Frasier: Look closer. Is the hat rack moving?
Roz: Oh, my God.

Frasier: All right, now, when you mist the plants, be sure that the water is not too cold. I know I'm harping on and on about this, but I know you're not used to dealing with delicate flowers.
Roz: I've produced your show for three years, haven't I?