Niles: Frasier, I'm so sorry, I completely overreacted. People really perked up once they saw those appetizers of yours. You know, I think the Niles Crane party curse has finally been laid to rest.

Niles: What is it?
Daphne: I don't mean to alarm you but there's something wrong with the hors d'oeuvres.
Niles: What? How do you know?
Daphne: A little bird told me.

Niles: Did you see how it happened? Anything?
Daphne: Well, I did hear her last words but... I don't think they'd be of much comfort to you.

Frasier: Oh Niles, I'm so sorry. My God, the mayonnaise must have gone bad, or the cranberry, or the paté.
Niles: Which one did she eat?
Frasier: I don't know. Daphne, smell her beak.

Carol: Excuse me, I'm afraid I spilt punch on my dress, I need a towel.
Daphne: No. You're much better off using... Yeah, this bread. It's much more absorbent.
Carol: Really?
Daphne: Yes. That's why they call it nature's sponge.
Carol: All right. It's working.

Roz: I'm really getting tired of these people. Some lady just handed me a piece of wet bread.

Niles: Oh, what a good idea. Why don't we all play a game? Anyone have any suggestions?
Carol: What about Murder? We played it at Irene Warner's party. It was a hoot.
Woman: How do we play?
Niles: Well here, someone tear off a few slips of paper and on one of them write the word "Murderer." And then
we'll pass them out, and then everyone hide. And we'll turn out the lights, and then the murderer kills someone and they lay down on the floor. And then we turn on the lights and the detective solves the crime.
Frasier: I tell you what, I'll volunteer to play the detective for the first round. Let the mayhem begin.

Mrs. Latimer: Oh, Martin, there you are. Come, hide with me, I know a little nook where no one will find us.
Martin: This game's a lot scarier than I thought.

Frasier: My goodness, the foul fiend has struck already. Turn the lights on. Good heavens, he's struck twice. That's not really in the rules.
Roz: Frasier...
Frasier: Nuh-uh. Once dead you cannot move or speak. Take your cue from Mr. Probst.

Roz: Frasier, I have a question.
Frasier: No, Roz. No talking.
Roz: Just tell me, can the murderer commit suicide?
Frasier: Well, no, Roz, that wouldn't make much sense, would it?
Roz: That's what I thought, but Mr. Probst is the one who murdered me.
Frasier: Ohl, was he? Well then, Mr. Probst, I don't think someone's playing by the rules, is he? You see, this way no-one else can get murdered, can they? Mr. Probst?
Roz: What is it? What are you doing?
Frasier: Nothing, Roz, nothing.
Roz: Are you taking his pulse?
Frasier: I'm trying to, I just can't find one.
Roz: Oh, my God! When he fell down, I thought it was part of the game. It didn't even look real.