Daphne: What the hell happened to your hair?
Martin: Well, what do you think? I colored it, just like you told me to.
Daphne: Yeah, but this isn't cinnamon sable.
Martin: Well, I couldn't use that, it had a woman's picture on the box. So I used some stuff called "Color In A Can" instead. It said "As seen on TV - Just spray on and go." How did I know it was a lousy product?
Frasier: If only there had been some clue.

Martin: Geez, look at this stuff. "Golden Sunset Retirement Village," "Investments for Seniors," "Willow Brook Mortuary"? What the hell kind of list am I on?
Daphne: Well, the good news is I don't think it's the kind of list they keep you on very long.

Daphne: Well, there's always your hair. I know it's not exactly your style, but there's nothing wrong with covering up that gray. I know just the right shade for you: cinnamon sable.
Martin: Cinnamon sable, huh? Sounds nice. Oh, wait. I couldn't use that, it's Duke's shade. He'd scratch my eyes out.

Frasier: Hello, Niles.
Niles: Frasier, prepare to salivate.
Frasier: Niles, if that is a picture of your new Biedermeier loveseat, you've already shown it to me.
Niles: No, this is a photo of my latest purchase: an exquisite, eighteenth-century Turkish prayer rug. Paid a fortune for it, but legend says whatever you pray for on this rug will come to you.
Frasier: Certainly worked for the dealer.

Frasier: I'm serious. I'm getting desperate here.
Niles: Don't obsess about this. My love life's not much better than yours, but you don't see me going off the deep end.
Frasier: Oh, really? Did it ever occur to you that this recent antique buying binge you've been on is nothing but a way of sublimating your frustrated sexual desires?
Niles: That's preposterous. These purchases have nothing to do with sex.
Frasier: Oh, don't they? In addition to the loveseat, let's see, your most recent acquisitions have been: a French bed-warmer, a pair of Toby jugs. The less said about that Civil War ramrod, the better.
Niles: Oh, you Freudians. Sometimes a ramrod is just a- Oh, hell, even I can't make that one fly.

Frasier: Take heart, Niles. We're both in the same boat. The hard part is, where do you go to meet people?
Daphne: Oh, it's not that hard. Just yesterday I met a very nice man at the grocery. We got to talking, and he
asked me if I was free Saturday night. I said, "Yes." He said, "Oh, wait, that's my niece's bat mitzvah." I said, "I've never been to a bat mitzvah." He said, "Would you like to go to the bat mitzvah?" I said, "Oh, yes. I'd love to go to the bat mitzvah." So he said...
Frasier: Daphne?
Daphne: Yes?
Frasier: Oh, nothing, I'm sorry. Go on.
Daphne: Hmm... Oh, I seem to have lost my train of thought. Oh, well. Anyone like some tea?
Frasier: Oh, love some.
Niles: Thank you, yes.
[as Daphne goes to the kitchen:]
Frasier: A little trick I discovered a few weeks ago. It's a lifesaver.

Martin: No, we threw a party. With just one rule: only single, available people were invited.
Frasier: Well, I don't know, Dad. That doesn't really sound like us.
Martin: Well, I don't know, it works. I used to throw one a month. People used to call them Marty Parties. People would call me up and say, "Hey, Marty, when's the next Marty Party?" "Isn't it about time for another Marty Party?" "Sure had a great time at that last Marty Party!"
Frasier: Uh, Dad?
Martin: Yeah?
Frasier: Oh, I'm sorry, nothing. Go on.
Martin: Or somebody might say, "Can I host the next Marty Party?"
Frasier: [to Niles] It doesn't always work.

Frasier: I also met someone who's terrific.
Niles: Oh, wait, I can't wait. I have to show you mine first. She's over by the buffet.
Frasier: Right, so's mine.
[Niles and Frasier wave over to the buffet]
Niles: Frasier, let me ask you something, at what point would you like to acknowledge that we're both waving to the same woman?

Vicky: These eggrolls are delicious.
Niles: I, uh, made them myself.
Vicky: Really, a psychiatrist and a chef? Impressive.
Niles: Yes, well they both came in handy when I cured the ham.

Frasier: Then I top it all off with brandied cherries and a dollop of creme fraiche.
Niles: Excuse me, Frasier.
Frasier: Not now Niles. I'm telling Vicky my recipe for crépe gâteau.
Niles: Oh, I'm sure she's had enough of your crépe by now.