Rose: [quizzing Blanche] Whose theory states a young man becomes intimate with his mother to get revenge on his father?
Blanche: Well, I don't know who said it, but my second cousin Arlen did it.

Rose: [seeing Mr. Terrific on the ledge] How's he doing?
Dorothy: I'll be honest. Right now, Squeaky Fromme has a better grasp on reality.

Rose: [seeing Vincenzo's elderly working crew] Who are all these old men?
Dorothy: The Osmond Brothers, Rose. The years without Donny have not been kind to them.

Rose: [smelling Sophia's spaghetti sauce] Sophia, that smells heavenly! Is it Chef Boyardee?
Sophia: [holding up a kitchen knife] Stick it in my heart, Rose, it'll hurt less!

Rose: [talking to Dorothy after Dorothy returns from a date with Glenn] Oh, so you spent the evening at dinner!
Dorothy: No, we spent dinner at dinner. We spent the evening at a motel.
Rose: A motel?!! Dorothy! A cheap, tawdry, bare-bulbed den of iniquity?!
Dorothy: We didn't drive to Sodom and Gomorrah, Rose.

Rose: [telling a St. Olaf story about a woman who had plastic surgery] Olga Fetchik was our town beautician, and one of God's most unattractive creations since the aardvark. Anyway, over the years, Olga had been secretly squirreling away money for plastic surgery. Well, one day she left without telling anyone, had the surgery, and didn't return for months. Well, nobody could believe their eyes - Olga Fetchik had turned into a stunning beauty! Every man in town wanted her, but she ended up marrying St. Olaf's most handsome and eligible bachelor, dance instructor Adolf Stepp. The two of them moved back to Norway, decided to get into show business, and they became the internationally renowed Scandinavian dance team of Stepp 'n' Fetchik.
Blanche: Rose, not that I care, but since you've already gone to so much trouble... just how did having plastic surgery ruin Olga's life?
Rose: Oh, it didn't ruin her life, it almost ruined St. Olaf. I mean, after she left, the town didn't have a professional beautician for years. Women started giving each other home perms - pretty soon everybody looked like Art Garfunkel. Husbands stopped sleeping with their wives, the population started to go down. Well, the town would have gone under if Oslo's most famous hairstylist, Vidal Sassbogadotter, hadn't relocated his shop in St. Olaf because of our more favorable tax laws! Now you see why I don't like plastic surgery?
[Dorothy stares at Rose quizzically for a few seconds, then walks over to Sophia, who is listening to a Walkman, and turns the volume on the Walkman all the way up.]
Sophia: [screaming in pain] OW! WHAT'D YOU DO THAT FOR?
Dorothy: Why should we be the only ones in pain?

Rose: [telling a story that is supposed to relate to Blanche's problem with Lucy, about a time she snuck into a nearby city to meet a boy she liked at a gin mill] I marched right up to the door, and I ran right into Reverend McKenzie, coming out of the bar on the arm of Millie Beasley, wife of Emmett Beasley, our town's most decorated war hero. Emmett received three Purple Hearts - all for head wounds. He ran the feed store in our town. Of course, if the truth be known, Millie was the one who had to make change for the customers.
Dorothy: Rose, are you telling a story or performing Our Town?
Rose: Oh, sorry. Anyway, Reverend McKenzie made a deal with me. He said if I didn't tell on him, he wouldn't tell on me. So I went home.
Blanche: Well, did he keep your secret?
Rose: Till the day he died - which was two days later. Emmett found Millie and the reverend skinny-dipping in the church's fountain, and shot the both of them. A week later, we became Lutherans.
Blanche: Rose, that isn't a teenage rebellion story. That is a changing religion story. That is a big "WHO CARES?" story. THAT IS A "WHY THE HELL TELL IT IN THE FIRST PLACE" STORY!!!

Rose: [to Baby] There you are; you get into the kitchen and eat your slop before I spank that little pig fanny!
Sophia: All right, I'm going, I'm going... oh sorry. That's the way they used to call us for dinner in the home.

Rose: [to her dance partner] You know, this reminds me of the big dance back in St. Olaf to kick off Pretzel Week. My Uncle Gunther, after the Great Beernut Shortage of '29---
Dorothy: Foul! Foul! Send a judge over here! [pointing at Rose] This woman is trying to put us to sleep!

Rose: [walks up to Blanche holding newspaper] Blanche, it's YOU!
Blanche: Oh, you're gettin' so good at that, Rose. [points at Dorothy] Now who's that over there?

Rose: [while reading her phone messages] Why, oh why can't grief take a holiday?
Dorothy: Oh, it does Rose, it does. Eventually, it comes to Miami like everyone else.

Rose: And nobody wants me around.
Blanche: Oh, honey, we want you around, we just can't afford to pay you!

Rose: Are you nervous because you haven't met Michael's fiancee?
Dorothy: No Rose, I'm nervous because if Sonny Bono gets elected mayor of Palm Springs, he's going to make all the postmen wear leather bell-bottoms and a fur vest.

Rose: Barbara Thorndyke is coming here? Wow, I've never met a real author before.
Blanche: I have. I once stood in line two hours at a bookstore for Arnold Schwarzenegger's autograph!
Dorothy: You know, when I think of great literary figures of our time, it's usually Faulker, Fitzgerald, and, uh...
Dorothy, Blanche: Schwarzenegger.
Rose: Did he sign your book?
Blanche: Yes. But only after he refused to sign my thigh.
Dorothy: He was probably intimidated to see a thigh bigger than his.

Rose: Blanche, how much longer do I have to have this hot towel on my face?
Blanche: Now just be patient, Rose. When I tell you to remove this towel, you are going to see what a dramatic difference Blanche's Miracle Beauty Treatment has made already! Honey, you will be transformed into a totally new woman! Okay, ready? Now, one, two... THREE!
[Rose removes the towel from her face as Blanche holds up a mirror. Rose, unaware that Dorothy has come up behind her, sees Dorothy's face in the mirror.]
Rose: Oh my GOD, I look horrible! ... Oh- Dorothy, it's you! I...
Dorothy: I'm sorry Rose, I'm sorry. I forgot it was a full moon.