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Frasier: [v.o:] "He had been a teenage Balboa, an explorer of the rising pinnacles and gently curving slopes of my body. Then in one explosive burst of discovery he had staked claim to the Pacific ocean that was my soul. But now he was leaving, going, vanishing like a solitary boat on a lonely horizon. Departing like a train, rolling ceaselessly through the night. Exiting swiftly like..."