Frasier: Granted the man's handsome but it's no reason to feel threatened.
Gil: I must confess, I didn't notice he was all that handsome.
Roz: You didn't notice? [laughs] You of all people?
Gil: Just what are you insinuating?
Roz: Well, you know, you're a little... Uh...
Gil: For your information, I happen to be a happily married man.
Frasier: You're married?
Bulldog: To a woman?
Gil: Of course to a woman. You've all heard me mention Deb. Well, how often have I said, "I must be running along now, Deb will be waiting."
Roz: We thought Deb was your cat.
Gil: She is not a cat. She is Mrs. Gilbert Leslie Chesterton, a Sarah Lawrence graduate, and the owner of a very successful auto body repair shop. Honestly, the conclusions people make, just because a man dresses well and knows how to use a pastry bag.

Niles: If things get worse, there is a technique of sleep-feeding I know. It involves an eye-dropper and a high fructose protein shake.
Martin: Oh, I don't know about that.
Niles: Well, it worked on Maris.

Niles: Frasier, are you aware?
Frasier: Yes, I'm aware. We were taking publicity photos today, I had an allergic reaction to the make-up I was wearing. I wasn't planning on wearing any make-up at all but there's this handsome new employee at the station, everybody's feeling incredibly insecure about their looks. They were all slapping their make-up on, so I too gave in to vanity. And, like Icarus flying too close to the sun I too paid the price.
Martin: Wow!
Frasier: Thank you, Dad, I don't like to go with mythology too often, but that was spot-on.

Niles: I'll take half a pound of the Reblochon and half a pound of St. André and I know I ask this every week but, is it here?
Robert: Is what here?
Niles: You know very well what I mean, the imported Swiss prosciutto.
Robert: Ah, the Bundnerfleisch. I am sorry, if only you had been here one hour ago...
Niles: Damn!
Robert: You would have seen it arrive. [Niles lets out a weak, high-pitched laugh] I have my fun with you.
Niles: You do, Robert, you make me long for the days when you barely spoke English. Slice, slice like the wind. I'll take a pound.

Niles: That man is my father, so obviously I can't leave here with a bag full of your merchandise.
Robert: Home delivery?
Niles: Thank you. [shouting outside] No-one treats my father that way. [quietly] Those olives, too. [shouts] No-one!

Roz: He's so handsome, I can't work with someone that handsome. No offense.
Frasier: Oh, none taken. Granted, when it comes to the looks department, Dr. Webber and I aren't in the same...
Roz: Species?
Frasier: Well, I was going to say "league," but "species" is so much more insulting.

Frasier: Oh, I am not jealous. Yes, the man is handsome, but I'm sure there are a number of areas in which I am his superior. You know, let's not forget that good looks can be a mixed blessing. People just roll out the red carpet for you but that robs you of any incentive to develop other qualities. After a while you're left an aging narcissist bent at the water's edge, realizing those lines in the pond aren't ripples, they're wrinkles.
Martin: Amazing.
Frasier: Thank you, Dad, I rather like that one myself.

Martin: That guy could be a movie star.
Frasier: All right, Roz, don't we have some work to do?
Niles: Oh, no, no, take this table. I have a session anyway.
Martin: Yeah, I gotta go, too. Like Zeus riding his thunderbolt to Mount...
Frasier: Very amusing, Dad.

Daphne: Oh, I think these biscuits are mismarked.
Robert: No, that's correct.
Daphne: $14.95 for a package this small?
Robert: I see we have another member of the price club.
Daphne: Hey, there's no need for that attitude. Back home I can get these for 80 pence.
Robert: Well, I do have to fly these over.
Daphne: What did you do? Buy them a seat on the Concorde?

Robert: Madame, if you cannot afford them, simply put them back.
Daphne: I can bloody well afford them, I just don't like being gouged. This is robbery!
Robert: Robber ["ro-bear"]? No-one calls me a robber!
Assistant: Robert?
Robert: Not now! On your way out you will see a sign on the door saying "Please come again." Disregard it.
Daphne: I'd be happy to. You know, Mr. Crane was right about you. You're nothing but an arrogant, swindling little cheese-monger.