Rose and Dorothy's "Miami, Miami (You've Got Style)" song:
[Rose:] I have to say what I feel
[Dorothy:] Miami has so much appeal
[Rose:] A great place to get a seafood meal]
[Both:] Miami...
Miami, Miami, you've got style
Blue skies, sunshine, white sand by the mile
When you live in this town, each day is so fine
The coldest of winters are warm and divine
Miami, Miami, you've got style
Blue skies, sunshine, white sand by the mile
There's golf clubs and nightclubs all within reach
Dance the samba till morning, then lie on the beach
Each view is a postcard, each day a great time
It's the cream of the crop, it's the top of the line
[Blanche and Sophia join in:] Miami, Miami, you've got style
Blue skies, sunshine, white sand by the mile
Miami... you've got style!!!

Rose: [about Martha, a new neighbor] I followed her through the store and wrote down everything she bought.
Dorothy: Rose, they steal jewels, not Gino's Pizza Rolls!

Rose: [about the dog] He followed me home.
Dorothy: Oh come on, Rose, you drive to the market. How did he follow you home, in a taxi?!

Rose: [about why the baby, Emily, is crying] She probably misses her mother, needs to hear a feminine voice.
Dorothy: [holding Emily] And what have I been doing, my Ben Gazzara impression?

Rose: [describing a nightmare she had to Dorothy] I'm at the banquet. It looks beautiful, I look beautiful, everyone looks beautiful. Suddenly Charlton Heston walks in dressed like Moses, and he tries to part the dessert table. And when that doesn't work, he rounds up all the guests and leads them to the lingerie department of the nearest J.C. Penney's, where everybody starts making fun of the fat lady underwear. What do you suppose it means?
Dorothy: That you spent too many years sleeping on curlers.

Rose: [describing what she saw] And at the information desk was this huge train schedule. And next to every departure it said "Destination: Heaven." My first thought was, "Gee, what a great title for a movie!" My second thought was "Damn! I'm dead!"

Rose: [listening to a planted bug] They keep talking about that noodlehead in the red dress. Could that be code language?
Dorothy: Only to the noodlehead in the red dress.

Rose: [on why she loves washing dishes] In Minnesota, the whole family'd get together and wash dishes. Even Uncle Gustav, after the giant Swiss Army Knife accident, learned to dry dishes with his feet. We used to laugh and carry on and have such a happy time.
Sophia: What is it with you people? All you ever had were happy times?! It's sickening! Happy times freezing in the cold, happy times during the locust invasion, happy times eating reindeer! How about death, did you have happy times then?
Rose: Yes, actually, we did. It was a chance to get together and remember other happy times!
Sophia: She's beginning to get to me.

Rose: [pretending the dog is talking to her] Don't explain, Rose. I used to live with a couple of bitches myself.

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: Blanche, sometimes you act just like a woman I knew in St. Olaf!
Sophia: Please, no one say "what woman?"

Rose: Do the minks have to be killed [for fur]?
Sophia: No, Rose, many women like wearing coats that urinate.

Rose: Dorothy. Something terrible has happened.
Dorothy: OH GOD!
Sophia: You idiot! If someone told you to jump off a bridge, would you do it?

Rose: Downtown? He means jail!
Dorothy: Oh really Rose, I thought he meant Neiman Marcus.
Rose: I've never been in jail. I won't make it. They always prey on the weak and innocent. The others will taunt me for trying to excel at my work in the laundry. I'll fall in with a bad crowd, whose leader looks like Ethel Merman. And I'll be forced to engineer a daring prison break using my laundry cart. From that time on, I won't know a moment's peace. I'll scar my fingerprints with battery acid and I'll run from town to town, taking jobs that people have who got bad grades in school. And then one day, they'll find me, holed up in a little shack in the Louisiana bayou. And a sheriff named Bull will call my name out over a megaphone and when I make a run for it he'll riddle my body with bullets! Oh please don't let them take me downtown! I want to live! I want to live!
Dorothy: You're not very good in a crisis are you Rose?

Rose: Girls! Girls, Count Bessie is missing. I went out to the garage to feed 'er and her cage was empty. Where could she be?
They all have chicken in their hands and become motionless, with glazed looks on their faces.