Sophia: Eighty-one years I've eaten fish on Friday, even when the Pope told me I didn't have to. I go to Mass, I light candles, I say novenas, and for what? So it could all be flushed down the toilet because my daughter insists on going out with Father Happy Pants!
Dorothy: Ma, you're not making it any easier.
Sophia: Look, Dorothy, in the end only you can decide what's right for you, and whatever decision it is, I'll stand by it.
Dorothy: Thanks, Ma.
Sophia: Just remember, make the wrong decision, you'll burn in hell forever. Sleep tight, Pussycat.

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