Bebe: You're up early, Miss Moon.
Daphne: Oh God, you startled me. Ever since your little speech about smoking, I haven't been able to think about anything else. Please, don't mention this to Dr. Crane.
Bebe: Silence has its price, dear. And I think we both know what that is.
Daphne: Forget it. You can't make me give you one of these.
Bebe: Oh... can't I?! [Bebe closes the balcony door]
Daphne: You open up right now!
Bebe: All right, missy, here's the drill. You drop those cigarettes, I'll open the door, you kick 'em over to me, capisce?
Daphne: No! [Daphne runs to the other door, but it too is locked]
Bebe: Oh, is it cold outside?
Daphne: All right, you asked for it! [Daphne hangs the pack of cigarettes over the balcony]
Bebe: No, no. Please, I beg of you.
Daphne: Oh! Oh, no. My fingers are getting weak. Oh, oh, I'm losing my grip.
Bebe: Stop, please. I'll give you anything you want. I'll... I'll make you a star!
Frasier: What the hell's going on out here?
Bebe: Daphne was smoking.

Martin: Hey, you back from the wedding already?
Roz: No.
Frasier: There was no wedding.
Roz: No wedding, no syndication deal.
Martin: [notices Bebe on the balcony in a wedding dress] What's she doing here?
Roz: No money, no fame.
Frasier: Well, you might say things hit a bit of a snag.
Roz: No beach house, no pool boys...
Frasier: Oh will you get a grip, Roz?!

Martin: Well, if I were you I'd get her away from that balcony rail. The doorman gets ticked if you even through a piece of gum over the side.

Frasier: Well, I don't really blame you, dear. You know, Roz and I are both upset, too. You know, look at it this way: at least you're no worse off than you were before.
Bebe: You don't know the things I did for that man. The depraved, Western-themed appetites I satisfied.
Roz: He was eighty-five, how bad could it have been?
Bebe: Ever worn a saddle?
Roz: Do I have to answer that?