Frasier: We'll be serving dinner just as soon as Roz gets here. I didn't think she should be alone this evening.
Daphne: How's she doing?
Frasier: Oh, okay, I guess, considering she's decided to have the baby by herself.
Martin: Boy, things have sure changed since my day. Back then, if a girl got in trouble, her family would just ship her off to relatives in another state, and if anybody asked, just lied and said she went to Europe. Then when she came back, they'd raise the baby as a little sister. Not like today. We had morals and values back then.

Martin: Boy, I can't stand these yuppie joints. Some bozo went through the men's room, correcting all the grammar in the graffiti with a red pen.
Frasier: Yes, I noticed.
Martin: I mean, who'd have that much time on his hands?
Frasier: Unbelievable.
Martin: It was Niles, wasn't it?
Frasier: I'll talk to him again.

Frasier: Oh, Roz. How are you?
Roz: Still pregnant.
Frasier: Look, I'm sorry about last night. I tried to apologize, but you ran out of the party so fast.
Roz: Oh, I'm sorry! Was that rude? You know more about etiquette that I do. What is the proper length of time you should stay after someone announces to a hundred strangers that you got knocked up?

Frasier: So, have you told the father?
Roz: Yes, I called him at nine o'clock this morning, which was seven o'clock at night, Cairo time.
Frasier: Is that a pertinent fact or are you just trying to dazzle me with your command of time zones?

Daphne: Hello, Dr. Crane.
Niles: Daphne, before I even come in, I just have to say I am mortified about my behavior last night. Honestly, I don't know what got into me.
Martin: About a quart of vodka, for starters.
Daphne: There's no need for an apology. I thought what you did was very chivalrous.
Niles: Well, I happen to believe that if a woman finds herself in such a predicament, a man of honor has an obligation to step up and do the right thing.
Daphne: And now poor Roz really is in that predicament.
Niles: ... Do I smell chicken?

Frasier: Roz, can I get you a drink?
Roz: Okay. Do you have any mineral water?
Frasier: Yes, I have eight different kinds. Why don't you come into the kitchen and pick one?
Martin: Yeah, he's got room for eight different kinds of water in that fridge, and I have to keep my can of spray cheese under the sink.

Frasier: He's a nice kid, Rick.
Roz: Yes, he is.
Frasier: Working here to put himself through school, right?
Roz: Yes, he is.
Frasier: He's the father, isn't he?
Roz: Yes, he is.

Frasier: The father of your child is a teenager.
Roz: Well, of course he is not a teenager ... anymore. He had a birthday three weeks ago. Look, uh, you know, we just went out for a couple of weeks, and then it was over, there were no hard feelings. It is a little embarrassing, though, him being seven years younger than I am- Oh, put your eyebrows down! I've seen your driver's license, and you don't weigh no 170.

Roz: It's not going to be easy. When you were a junior in college, if a woman came to you and told you she was carrying your child, wouldn't you have been devastated?
Frasier: In my case, I would have been mystified.

Roz: How do I even begin to tell him?
Frasier: Well, with something like that, it's never easy.
Rick: So, Roz, what made you switch to decaf?
Frasier: Then again, sometimes a natural opening does present itself.