Frasier: Maris? Maris, we need to talk! Oh, look, look, I know you're up there, I can see you through the shutters! All right, if you won't talk, listen. Niles didn't ask me to come here. I came because I care about both of you. I realize that Niles spoke to you rather harshly today. Truth be told, is it was I that urged him to express his anger. As hard as it was for you to listen to such criticism, you're a fair-minded woman and you must concede that he had a right to be upset! Ah, ah, Maris. By opening that window you're opening up a window to a long and happy marriage, that's good.
[A bucketful of water lands on Frasier's head]
Frasier: All right, you're expressing your anger. That's good, too! But, listen, in spite of that last little outburst, I am not going to leave here until we've had some sort of a breakthrough! [attack dogs barking] Well, I see our time is up, I'll let myself out.

[Eddie is standing behind Frasier as he looks in the refrigerator]
Frasier: I know you're there. After last night, frankly, I've had quite enough of your kind. You can stare all you like. I'm not going to give you anything to eat.
[Daphne quietly walks in and whimpers like a dog]
Frasier: Oh, all right, here. You might as well finish off this god-awful Shepherd's Pie that Daphne made. Lord knows it isn't fit for humans. [turns around and sees Daphne] Did that sound like "humans?" I said "Mormons."

Daphne: I don't want to alarm you, Dr. Crane, but I'm getting a very strong vibration off this.
Niles: Oh, dear God.
Daphne: I can see Mrs. Crane. She's waving this poker around and screaming, "You thief! Get out! You'll never get away with this!"
Niles: Wait. No, I remember. That's what she said to the decorator when he tried to double-bill her for the andirons.
Daphne: I was wondering why the intruder was wearing Toreador pants.

Niles: Hi-ho, everyone. What are you all doing inside on such a beautiful, clear autumn day?
Frasier: Niles, you seem awfully chipper this morning.
Niles: Well, I woke up this morning and I had a realization. Like it or not, my life is changing. I'm single now, so I went out and rented a bachelor pad. Ooh, is that coffee?
Martin: Don't you think that's jumping the gun a little bit?
Niles: Oh no, Dad. Maris, uh, ordered me to get my stuff out of there by sundown, or else she'd turn it over to a church bazaar. Oh, and I got these jeans! Right? Right? And I'm starting a goatee, and I'm thinking of joining a gym, but I don't know whether aerobics or weight training is the quickest route to "buff!" Any thoughts?

Daphne: How're you feeling, Mr. Crane?
Martin: I'm fine, I wish you'd quit asking me.
Frasier: Well, it's a reasonable question for a man who just ate a cut of prime rib the size of a hatbox.
Martin: Well, whose fault's that? You're the one who was too embarrassed to walk out with a doggie bag. For what it cost, that meat was coming with me, one way or another.

Vinnie: "Anyway, Doc, I got this thing. It's, uh, got to do with women."
Frasier: Well, I sense you're having trouble finding Miss Right.
Vinnie: "What, are you nuts? I meet Miss Right most every night! Eager young college girls, tough career women hungry for a little R-and-R, if you know what I'm saying."
Frasier: Well, you're leaving precious little room for misinterpretation. But I sense, despite these frequent dalliances, that you're still not truly happy.
Vinnie: "Well, sure I am. It's just that I lost a pinky ring in one of their houses. Star sapphire, beautiful thing. I figured if I went public with it on your show, I had a pretty good chance of getting it back."
Frasier: Well, Vinnie, it's obvious you know nothing about this show, or how to treat women. But even more appalling, you know even less about jewelry! A pinkie no more needs a ring than a neck needs a gold medallion!
Vinnie: "Just shoot me, why don't you?"
Frasier: I'd be delighted.

Niles: Oh, Marta, this feels wonderful! You must try it! [Marta picks up an antique and smashes it] I meant at your house.

Roz: I am the joke of the station. When I used to come in in the morning the guard would say, "Morning, Roz." Now it's "All hail, Rozalinda!"
Frasier: Roz, I think you should be flattered. Noel's attempt to immortalize you is-is akin to a love poem written by Robert Browning to his wife.
Roz: Did he ever write a poem where he gave her two extra breasts?
Frasier: Well, I'd have to check my English Lit notes, but I think not, no.

Niles: And even if I were angry, what would you have me do?
Frasier: Let it out!
Niles: Well, I am letting it out! I'm getting hives!

Daphne: Oh no, wait. That's beautiful. Here, this one's hideous.
Martin: Hey, I gave him that for a wedding present.