Frasier: [after a night of drinking Carla's special drinks] Woody, you had as much of that vile brew as the rest of us. How can you be so chipper this morning?
Woody: Oh, it's because of the old Hanover hangover cure. Very simple: first, put on your pajamas; then, take an aspirin with a glass of cold water; and then, you vomit 'til your nose bleeds and heave until you see the angels. Wake up in the mornin', you feel brand new. Boy, I am hungry. Anybody for some chili dogs?
Norm: Okay, okay, but only two.

Frasier: [after Sam suggests he begin dating] Look, I just came off a seven year marriage. It's hard to think of replacing Lilith.
Carla: Just go to the morgue and open any drawer.

Frasier: [to Lillith] Darling? Don't make yourself too beautiful I can hardly stand to look at you now.
[Diane and Lilith are in the bathroom.]

Frasier: All right now, everyone pay attention. I have an announcement to make and I only have a minute.
Norm: Why? You're in a hurry?
Frasier: No, I was referring to your relatively short attention spans.

Frasier: Carla, death is an earthly scientific passage predicted by either massive physical injury or progressive bodily deterioration. There is as little validity in a supposed death dream as there is in the cliched image of death itself as a grim bloodless ghoul who's bony finger reaches out to tap you on the shoulder when your number's up.
Lilith: [taps Frasier's shoulder] Frasier, it's time to go.
Frasier: [Screams] Don't do that, woman. Put on some blush.

Frasier: Carla, this psychic business is just a crutch to avoid reality. It's very easy for people to get hooked on this hocus pocus. Before you know it this woman will be holding your hand once a week, charging you $100 an hour, and filling your mind with all sorts of confusing jargon.
Carla: And how is that different from you?
Frasier: Well [pause]...I can prescribe drugs.

Frasier: Carla, why do you keep building walls between you and everyone else?
Carla: Have you taken a good look at everyone else [in the bar]?
Frasier: Touché.

Frasier: Carla, you can't believe God has a personal vendetta against you.
Carla: Look at my kids. Look at my husbands. Look at my life. What do you think?

Frasier: Darling, are you going to be okay with this?
Lilith: Am I going to be okay with this? Let's see. Earlier today I discovered that my husband had an ex-wife he never told me about. Then I had the pleasure of watching him kiss said ex-wife in front of 1,000 children including his own. Then to top it all off, she hugged me. Can you deduce from my tone whether or not I'm going to be okay with this?
Frasier: Baby, you're the greatest.

Frasier: Don't you see?! What these two people, who are such geniuses at romance, are trying to do is to get you to take your hair down, thinking that it will stimulate me like some sort of Pavlovian dog. So, why don't you just oblige them. Get this silliness over with so we can get on with our lives.
[Lilith takes down her hair and fixes it to where it is over her shoulders.]
Lilith: You mean like this?
Frasier: [lustful] Precisely. You know what?
Lilith: What?
Frasier: I'm going to kiss you. I'm going to kiss you hard and I'm going to kiss you long. But make no mistake about it, I am going to kiss you. In fact, I'm going to kiss you like you've never--
[Lilith throws her arms around Frasier and kisses him in a long embrace.]
Frasier: Yes. Like that. Now, listen, Lilith. I think you and I have just been too articulate for words. We talk and we talk when what we really want to do is show how we feel.
Lilith: I think, Dr. Crane--
Frasier: Look, I don't care what you think. We both wanna be animals. Now, I'm going back to my tastefully decorated townhouse and prove it.
[Frasier starts towards the door. He stops right next to Lilith.]
Frasier: Well, I-I suggest you come with me.
Lilith: I think I see what you're trying to do, Dr. Crane, and I just want you to know...[breathes heavily] It worked.
[Lilith jumps into Frasier's arms.]
Lilith: Let's go.
[Frasier carries Lilith out of Cheers.]

Frasier: Emotional crises can affect our sensory perceptions. Devastating. I've read volumes on hysterical blindness, loss of hearing, even total loss of speech.
Carla: Clavin had to pick blindness.
Frasier: Carla, you're not helping.
Carla: I'm not trying.

Frasier: Everyone, I have an announcement to make. You may not have noticed but over the last year I've allowed myself to gradually fall out of shape. I'm frequently tired and I find I no longer have the energy for some of my daily activities.
Lilith: Or some of your weekly ones.
Frasier: Which is why Richard here is going to put me on a strict exercise and diet regimen. Now you may ask, "Why is Frasier sharing this information with the general public?"
Carla: Because you're the loneliest man on earth.
Lilith: He has another reason.

Frasier: Explain this to me. If the winner is going to get a kiss from Rebecca, what does the loser get?
Cliff: Well, um, A kiss from Norm!
Norm: Then of course, there is no loser.

Frasier: Hello, Diane.
Diane: Hello Frasier, you're looking well!
Frasier: I'm feeling well! I'm happily married with a bright young son and a successful practice. But, you know, what's most important, and I just realized it this moment, is that, I'm over you.
Diane: I'm glad.
Frasier: There is absolutely nothing here anymore. I'm over you. You could be a total stranger for all I'm feeling. You could be ugly and gnarled and toothless, without that shining hair, those dancing eyes and these graceful, subtle limbs. Thank God I'm free.
Diane: Frasier, you're hurting me!
Frasier: Well, you never hurt me, did you?!

Frasier: Here's to the most beautiful woman in the world. [Lilith throws the glass of wine in his face] Let me guess, you read the letter.
Lilith (furious): Yes, I read the letter, you licentious quack! And what facile tripe it is! "We both need time to grow, to develop as people!". Who is the slut!?
Frasier: SHE'S NO SLUT! [quails slightly at Lilith's scowl] What slut? Well, I mean, look...it was all a mistake, it's just a big mistake...
Lilith: Oh, you bet it is, mister! You want your freedom!? I'll give you freedom...FROM YOUR TEETH! [She picks up a dish and takes aim at Frasier]
Frasier: NO, LILITH! Not the Royal Doulton!