Frasier1993

Frasier:
[on Maris] So, you really do love her?

Niles:
Of course I love her. But it's a different kind of love.

Frasier:
You mean it's not human?

Niles:
No, no, I mean it doesn't burn with the passion and intensity of a Tristan and Isolde. It's more comfortable, more familiar. Maris and I are old friends. We can spend an afternoon together - me at my jigsaw puzzle, she at her auto-harp - not a word spoken between us and be perfectly content.

Frasier:
I'm told it was a lot like that near the end in the Hitler household.