Frasier: All right, everyone. The time we have been waiting for is at hand. And with a simple bow of thanks to the muse Calliope, let us begin.

Frasier: Oh, you were wonderful.
Niles: Thank you. The trombone frightened me.

Frasier: Now that I know what you want, well, there's nothing easier. Of course I can write simple. I promise you, it'll be something far more memorable than what my Dad came up with.
Kenny: Well, I don't know, I remember it. [singing:]
What's new? I'm listenin'
Choir: Feelin' blue? I'm listenin'...
Feelin' sad, feelin' mad, feelin' bad, feelin' glad
I'm listenin'!
Frasier: You're off the clock!

Martin: Frasier, why don't you just decide what you want to say and say it? Without a lot of big words and showing off. You know, and the tune should be something simple - something you can whistle. I tried whistling that thing you wrote today, and I got lightheaded. Of course, it might have been that last doughnut. I went back for one of those African rainsticks.

Frasier: You know, Kenny, I'm sorry for procrastinating this thing. I tell you, I'll get one as soon as I possibly can.
Kenny: Well, you better come up with something here. I'm sorry to be a hard-ass. It's the part of my job I hate the most, but I need this thing on my desk by Monday...ish.

Frasier: Daphne, would you please turn off that vacuum cleaner?
Daphne: It's not a vacuum cleaner. It's the "Dirt Scourge 2000." A total cleansing system.
Martin: Is it new?
Daphne: Yeah. I got it this afternoon. You see, this water traps all of the dirt particles instead of recycling them back into the air. I got all that just from Dr. Crane's pillow.
Martin: Ew.
Niles: I've been begging you to switch to a more abrasive loofah.

Daphne: No, it would be the same for anyone. Dead skin, dust mites... that's what we're all sleeping on, only we don't know it.
Martin: We do now. Geez.

Niles: [singing] Claustrophobia, Nymphomania, He will probe ya, He'll explain t'ya- It's brilliant.
Frasier: You know, it does have a Cole Porter-y, Stephen Sondheim-y flavor, doesn't it?
Niles: Oh, absolutely. Sondheim-y would have killed to have written this.

Frasier: Well, finally, the choir has deigned to join us.
Director: Sorry. Our bus broke down. We had to walk two miles to get here.
Frasier: Ah, then I suppose we can dispense with the breathing exercises I was going to recommend.

Frasier: Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention, please, I'd like to take a few minutes to explain my artistic vision.
Timpanist: Take as long as you want, we're all on the clock.
Frasier: Point well taken. Moving right along then.