Roz: Could you at least hire Leon to accompany you?
Frasier: I take it he's desperate for work?
Roz: Hasn't had a gig in months. Music is all he knows. He's not good at anything else - except in bed. It's what he does best.
Frasier: Yeah. How long did it take you to find that out?
Roz: Ten seconds, Frasier.
Frasier: Oh, longer than usual.

Daphne: This is the chance I've been waiting for.
[As Daphne uses the "Dirt Scourge 2000" on Martin's chair, the water tank begins to bubble and smoke before a small explosion.]
Frasier: Well, apparently the "Dirt Scourge 2000" is no match for the "Dirt Pile 1957."
Daphne: Well, this is going back. On the commercial they clean all the mud off a hippopotamus.

Niles: I'm just teasing. Actually, it was a wonderful show. I was very proud to be acting in it.
Frasier: You know, Niles, you were wonderful in it as well.
Niles: Well, thank you, I thought so.
Frasier: Mm-hmm.
Niles: I often thought if I'd kept at it, I could have been a professional actor.
Frasier: Ah, you see, we all have a road not taken, some unfinished business worth exploring.
Martin: Yeah, I always wanted to be a toe dancer, but a bullet ended my dream.

Niles: Well, Frasier, if you need any help with this, I'm right here.
Frasier: Thank you, Niles. You know, I'd rather handle the composing chores myself, but I could use a sounding board.
Niles: Fair enough. Let's put our heads together.
Frasier: All right.
Niles: Figuratively speaking, of course. I saw what came out of your pillow.

Frasier: You know what? I'm a little nervous. It just may be a bit too conventional. Perhaps instead of a regular bridge, I could substitute it with a dramatic monologue spoken against a musical background.
Niles: ... I like it.
Frasier: Of course, I would have to hire an actor.
Niles: Yes, I suppose you could squander a lot of money on some so-called professional. Someone who doesn't know a thing about psychiatry. Who doesn't understand the whole Gestalt.
Frasier: Or maybe you could do it.
Niles: I think so.

Niles: Uh, Frasier, did you mean to cut paragraph five of my monologue?
Frasier: Gosh, I might have, Niles. I've just been so busy. What was the gist?
Niles: A lighthearted lampoon of mental health care abuse.
Frasier: Ah, yes, I did. I was afraid that some fussbudget might take offense at my jape about lobotomies.
Niles: Well, I suppose it's best to play it safe. Although, I did like the way you indicated manic depression with a slide whistle.

Frasier: Roz, we've got a problem. In scoring this, I had to eliminate the guitar part.
Roz: Well, put it back.
Frasier: I can't. I'm afraid another instrument might make things sound cluttered. Unless, of course, Leon can play the bagpipe.
Roz: Bagpipe?
Frasier: Yes! Our show deals with a whole range of human emotion from euphoria to despair, and nothing says despair so quickly as the skirl of a bagpipe.
Roz: Nothing says "turn off the radio" so quickly either.

Frasier: Well, then, now people, before we start, are there any questions? Yes, viola.
Tiffany: My name is Tiffany.
Frasier: No, no no. I'm calling you by your instrument name, so as to avoid confusion.
Tiffany: Well I have a question about measure 34...
Frasier: Aha, I thought you might. Yes, you see, I've accelerated the tempo there in order to depict the yearning of the superego. Very perceptive of you to spot that.
Tiffany: No, I meant, are these eighth notes or what?
Frasier: Yes... eighth notes. Anyone else? Yes, timpani?
Tiffany: You just answered my question.
Frasier: Not Tiffany, timpani.

Frasier: Anyone else? Yes, actor.
Niles: I'm just wondering how my monologue is going to be audible over all these instruments.
Frasier: Oh, that's a good point, Niles. ... You may be seated.

Martin: Boy, you really got everything here!
Frasier: Oh, it's not a time for stinting, Dad. I've got everything from the African rain stick to the Javanese tam-tam.
Martin: Are the tam-tams the long ones with the cream in the middle?