Frasier: I am so sorry, Daphne. Now all I have to do is make this relatively simple shot, unless of course you'd like to concede defeat.
Daphne: Oh, that's typical American arrogance. We Brits don't know the meaning of the word "defeat".
Frasier: Oh, really, then I suppose you're not acquainted with a little spat we refer to as the Revolutionary War. Out of my way.
Daphne: Oh, just like a Yank. Insulting us Brits to cover up your inferiority complex.
Frasier: What exactly should we feel inferior about, your pioneering work in the field of soccer hooliganism? [laughs]
Daphne: Oh, say your worst .We both know there isn't as much dignity in this entire country as our Queen's got in her littlefinger.
Frasier: Oh, yes, you've really bested me there. What could be more dignified than a dowdy old sandbag who wears a flowerpot on her head. I win. The bar is mine. [Frasier turns around to see the British clientele stood menacingly behind him] Oh, lose the long faces, lads, I'm staying. Oh, good Lord, I hope you didn't take those little barbs about the motherland seriously.
Terrence: Perhaps you'd better leave now.
Frasier: Oh, Daphne'll tell you there's no greater Anglophile than I. I have all my suits made at Savile Row. You know, I spell "colour" with a "u!"

Niles: I gave Maris her birthday saddle. She was so thrilled she treated me to a little Lady Godiva impression.
Frasier: Oh, my.
Niles: Apparently, the oils in the saddle reacted badly with her cellulite cream and created a powerful epoxy.
Frasier: Oh, dear.
Niles: Yes, it took an hour and a full bottle of nail polish remover to get her free. Today, her poor little thighs were so sore the only way she could find comfort was to straddle a frozen butterball turkey.

Niles: No, it was my antiques scout. The present I ordered for Maris's birthday has finally arrived. I got her the most exquisite antique saddle.
Frasier: Oh. How does it look on you?
Niles: You won't laugh when you see it. It is bejeweled but not overdone, much like my Maris. The craftsmanship is breathtaking. It's been so expertly restored you can barely see the stitching.
Frasier: Again, like Maris.

Niles: Is there a problem?
Frasier: Well, yes. There's a billiard tournament at the pub tonight.
Niles: You're passing up "Orpheus & Eurydice" to shoot pool at some sticky-floored saloon?
Frasier: Yeah. Well, my partner, Terrence, has agreed to skip a family wedding just to participate. I can't leave him in the lurch. Isn't there somebody else who could take my place?
Niles: At this point I'd just as soon be by myself. My brother has abandoned me. My wife is cursing my name. Tonight when Orpheus descends into hell, I'll be there waiting for him with a fruit basket.

Daphne: Well, look at that, it's all tied up.
Frasier: Yes, who would have guessed those hands are so skilled. Certainly no one who's sampled your corned beef hash. Ha. I score again!
Daphne: That's not something we hear out of your mouth very often.

Young Frasier: I specifically requested my macaroni & cheese al denté.
Young Niles: I know. This lunch is a culinary Hindenberg.
Young Frasier: Niles, have you ever considered that our food may be payback for your recent editorial, "Cafeteria Of Shame"?
Young Niles: Well, they can't intimidate me. They'll never silence my pen. I could write an exposé on their baked goods alone.
Young Frasier: Yes, this is the hardest roll since Hamlet.
Young Niles: Good one, Frasier. May I use it?
Young Frasier: But of course.

Niles: These biscotti represent an all-time low. Chalky aftertaste, inelegant aroma, spongy.
Frasier: Yes, and what is a spongy biscotti but an unwelcome trespasser into Madeline territory?
Niles: Have you seen how stale these pistachios are? It's like swallowing gravel. It's a wonder I escaped permanent injury.
Frasier: Yes, your ability to cheat death at every turn never ceases to amaze.

Niles: Someone's in a mood today.
Frasier: Sorry, Niles. You know sometimes you just find yourself getting restless?
Niles: I have a feeling I'm about to.

Niles: [to phone:] Hello. Yes? Really? Bravo! Excellenté! Benissimo! [hangs up] You'll never guess who that was.
Frasier: The Three Tenors?

Niles: You're more upset than I realized. Let's do something to take your mind off it. Dinner? Chamber music? There's a wonderful lecture series on the history of modern lecture series.