Rose: Sophia, are you busy?
Sophia: Nah, I'm just drawing a line on the milk of magnesia bottle.
Rose: Why?
Sophia: I think the gardener's been sneaking a few sips!
Rose: I have a problem.
Sophia: All right. Take a sip, I'll draw another line.
Rose: No, no, it's not that . . . my boss at the center made a pass at me!
Sophia: Maybe you misunderstood; what exactly did he do?
Rose: He called me in his office and threw me down on the couch and kissed me!
Sophia: That's a pass . . . okay, I think I can help you. I'll tell you a story, Rose. Picture it--Sicily, 1922.
Blanche: [rushes in] Sophia, I have a problem! I just saw the guy I've been dating out with another woman! Now, what do you think I oughta do?
Sophia:I think you should sit down and picture Sicily, 1922. (Blanche sits) It was the worst of times; it was the worst of times. It was Sicily, 1922.
Dorothy:[enters] Ma, I have a problem.
Sophia: Just sit down and listen! First of all, is everyone who lives in this house here at this very moment!?
Dorothy: Yes.
Sophia: Then for the last time, PICTURE IT! Sicily, 1922! A beautiful young woman with breasts not unlike Brigitte Nielsen . . . except hers moved when she skipped! She comes walking down a picturesque country road when suddenly a yellow Rolls Royce pulls up and blocks her path!
Blanche: Ohhh! Who was in the Rolls?
Sophia: It doesn't matter, it's not important to the story. Anyway, the Rolls Royce moves on, and the girl finds her pepperoni is missing.
Rose: What happened to it, Sophia?
Sophia: Bambi ate it; how should I know?! You keep missing the point; the point is she has no pepperoni to bring to her family's table! She gets hysterical; she starts to run. She runs through the fields, the meadow, over the hill--until she comes to a raging river FILLED with pepperoni swimming upstream!
Dorothy: Ma, pepperoni swimming upstream?
Sophia: Yeah, I know, it's odd--pepperoni is a land meat. But there it was! She wades into the river, grabs an armful, and races home to feed her family. When she tells them the story, they think it's an act of God! But as it turns out a disgruntled pepperoni stuffer had blown up the factory in a neighboring town causing pepperoni to rain down over a hundred square miles--which is where the old Sicilian saying 'It's raining cats and pepperoni' comes from!
[Blanche, Rose and Dorothy all nod]

Dorothy: Let's take it from the top.
Rose: From the top. Oh, that's sounds so musical!
Dorothy: [pointing at the piano] Tickle the ivories, Rose.
Rose: [tickling] Goochie-goochie-goochie-goo! [laughs]
Dorothy: Rose, play or die! [Rose begins playing]
Dorothy: [singing the lyrics] "Miami is nice/So I'll say it twice/Miami is nice/Miami is nice/Miami is..." W-, wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute! You put in an extra "Miami is nice"!
Rose: I had to. It hurts the music if you don't put it in.
Dorothy: Yeah, but the lyrics don't make any sense! I mean, it goes, "Miami is nice/So I'll say it twice."
Rose: Oh, I see your point. Well, what about this: "Miami is nice/So I'll say it thrice!"
Dorothy: "Thrice"?! Who the hell says "thrice"?!
Rose: It's a word!
Dorothy: So is "interuterine". It does not belong in a song.
Rose: [playing and singing] Miami, you're cuter than, an interuterine...
[Blanche meets her father's new fiancee who is a young woman]

Rose: [on Blanche] I think she's a gerchominochen!
Doctor: Well, what exactly does that mean?
Rose: Literally, it's the precise moment when dog doo turns white.
[Pause, as Blanche is shown with a horrified and shocked look on her face.]
Rose: But in general, it refers to the kind of person you don't want to share your hodenkugels with.
Dorothy: Rose, if you say one more of those stupid words, so help me...
Rose: Oh, blow it out your tubenburbles!

Rose: 'What kind of a friend would you be if you let Elliot ruin her life? She could marry that man. They could have a child! [Blanche looks at her strangely] ...They could adopt a child! And then one night at the country club, possibly during little Mei Ling's coming out party... [pauses as Blanche looks exasperated] ...Dorothy's having the time of her life when she goes to the powder room and she overhears the towel lady telling Mrs. Steinbeck that Dorothy's husband, Dr. Elliot Clayton, has bonged every female member of the country club. Can you let that happen to Dorothy? Can you let that happen to little Mei Ling? Hasn't she suffered enough?
Blanche: Not as much as I have listening to that story.
Rose: Forget the story. You have to tell Dorothy, she's your friend!
Blanche: You're right, she is my best friend.
Rose: I thought I was your best friend!
Blanche: You were until you told me that story.

Dorothy: Floozy.
Blanche: Tramp.
Dorothy: I, I am a tramp? Blanche, have you heard the latest ad campaigns? "Join the Navy, see the world, sleep with Blanche Devereaux!" "Join the Army, be all you can be and sleep with Blanche Devereaux!" [raising voice] The Marines are looking for a few good men who have NOT slept with Blanche Devereaux!

Blanche: Rose! It is 2 AM! What are you still doing up?
Rose: Well I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd get up and make a batch of Sparhuven Krispies. It's an ancient Scandinavian midnight snack.
Dorothy: I guess after a night of pillaging and raping, a Viking wants a little something to go with his cocoa.
Blanche: Well they smell God awful!
Rose: Yeah just when you're about ready to throw up from the stench, that's when they're done. Who wants some?
Dorothy: [commenting on the smell of Rose's snacks] Rose, if these had been offered to the Donner Party, they still would've eaten each other!
Rose: Don't be silly Dorothy. They're delicious. You just have to know how to eat them. You hold your nose with one hand [holding nose] and you pop a krispie in your mouth with the other. Mmm! That tastes like cheesecake, fresh strawberries, and chocolate ice cream.
Blanche: [tries one] My gosh, you're right. That is the best thing I have ever tasted!
Dorothy: [eating a krispie] This is delicious!
Sophia enters kitchen Hey, give me a break. You can't smell that from the hall!

Man: [in a flashback scene, responding to a personal ad of Dorothy's that Rose put in the newspaper] Dorothy?
Dorothy: Have we met?
Man: Not yet. I'm here because of your ad in the paper, "Willing to do anything - $8 an hour, no job too big or small."
Dorothy: Yes, yes, of course, please come in. I'm sorry, I didn't expect people to actually come here, I just figured, you know, that I would be going to them.
Man: That's the way it'll work in the future, when my video camera gets back from the shop.
Dorothy: So tell me, what kind of work is it that you need done, Mr.---
Man: Toto.
Dorothy: ---Mr. Toto?
Man: Oh, no "Mr.," just "Toto." You're Dorothy, and I'm Toto. At least for the next eight dollars.
Rose: Dorothy, you owe me an apology; your ad's right here. [points to newspaper]
Dorothy: Oh Rose, this is the Personals column!
Rose: So what?
Dorothy: So what? You put an ad in the personals column that said I will do anything for eight dollars an hour?! Right under an ad that reads, "History professor seeking non-smoking Oriental woman who is into Wesson Oil and bears a resemblance to Florence Henderson."
Man: Is that signed "Doug"?
Dorothy: Yes.
Man: I know him; he's a sick man.
Dorothy: [showing her visitor to the door] I'm terribly sorry for this mixup; goodbye.
[The man leaves, and a priest then walks up to the open door]
Dorothy: Oh my GOD, I don't believe this! I'm going to call the cops if you don't get out of here right away, you PERVERT!
Sophia: [walks up carrying a large box and hands it to the bewildered-looking priest] Hi, Father Rossi! Here's the canned goods for the needy!
Dorothy: [mortified] Oh, no... [to Father Rossi] I'm terribly sorry. I promise that I will say Hail Marys until Madonna has a hit movie.
[Another man enters through the open door after the priest leaves and walks up to Rose]
Man #2: [to Rose] Hi! Here's my eight dollars! Let's get started, Dorothy!
Rose: Oh, I'm not Dorothy; she is.
Man #2: [to Dorothy] I'll give you four dollars. Let's get started.
Dorothy: How would you like your rear end kicked across the street?!!
Man #2: Oh, great! Here's the other four dollars!
[Dorothy throws Man #2 out of the house. Enter Blanche]
Blanche: Girls! Girls! There's a busload of Greek sailors out front! They want to know how many drachma there are in eight dollars!

Dorothy: It is not a fly, Rose.
Rose: Spanish Fly is not a fly?
Dorothy: No.
Rose: What is it?
Dorothy: It's a beetle.
Rose': They call it a fly, but it's really a beetle?
Dorothy: Yes.
Rose: How do they know it's Spanish?
Dorothy: Because it wears a little sombrero, Rose!
Rose: Well why don't they just call it a beetle...Spanish Beetle?
Dorothy: Because they call it Spanish Fly.
Rose: Then what do they call their flies?
Dorothy: I DON'T CARE, ROSE!!! Forget it! I don't care! The minks can just sit there and we'll lose all our money! I don't care! Just don't mention Spanish Fly to me ever again!
Rose: You're really touchy about these Spanish Flies, aren't you.

Rose: Oh, no, Blanche has been attacked!
Blanche: Sort of.
Rose: Oh, honey, what happened? You poor darling.
Blanche: I went to the police station today to get an update on my case. I borrowed your pocket hair spray; I took it from your dressing table. You know what this humidity does to my hair.
Rose: I know. Cotton candy.
Blanche: Well, just as I entered the police station, I saw there was this cute officer there who had his eye on me, so I took out your hair spray and gave my hair a final spritz. Only, surprise, it wasn't hair spray. It was mace. You had mace. Your hair spray was mace! I maced myself right there in the police station! I almost died! I fell to the floor, blinded, writhing in pain. Couldn't move for 20 minutes!
Rose: Well, what do you know? It works!
Blanche: Works? They thought I was on angel dust! They wanted to arrest me! I'm lying there, dying, and they're harassing me! Murderers are free, rapists are free, but a poor widow on the floor, they try to lock up! Who'd I hurt? Me?!

Sophia: [playing Scrabble with Dorothy] I win!
Dorothy: Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute. There is no such word as that!
Sophia: There certainly is.
Dorothy: Fine. I'll look it up, and if it isn't in the dictionary, I win.
Sophia: We don't have a dictionary.
Dorothy: Yes we do.
Sophia: Not anymore, the robbers took it.
Dorothy: They stole our dictionary?
Sophia: That's right. Too bad.
Dorothy: Ma, "disdam" is not a word! You made it up.
Sophia: It's a word!
Dorothy: Fine. Use it in a sentence.
Sophia: [pauses] You're no good at disdam game!

Rose: Nils Feelander attempted to harass me repeatedly.
Blanche: What do you mean, he attempted to?
Rose: He worked at Lars Eriksson's Drugstore and Tackle Shop, he was the soda jerk. Now that I think about it, he was the town jerk. Every Saturday afternoon I'd go in and have a sundae. Well, Nils would arrange the ice cream scoops in an obscene way. I could never prove it, because by the time I would take it home to show my father, the evidence had...
Dorothy, Blanche: Melted.
Rose: Yeah. To this day, every time I pass an ice cream parlor or a tackle shop, I blush!

Blanche: The last time a friend's sweetheart made a pass at me, I lost my friend and her beau.
Rose: And her beau?
Blanche: That's right, Anderbeau Johnson. Clyde Whitehead, Anderbeau's beau, decided he wanted to see my cheerleader sweater from the inside. So when I told Anderbeau, she blamed the whole thing on me, and then Clyde would never speak to me again for telling! I lost Anderbeau and her beau! Now you understand why I can't tell Dorothy?
Rose: I don't even understand who Anderbobo is.

Blanche: Elliot made.... Elliot made-
Dorothy: What, what did Elliot make? A ship in a bottle? What?!
Blanche: Elliot made a pass at me.
Dorothy: He made a pass at you? You mean he winked at you. He's a very big winker.
Blanche: No, this was no wink. He came up behind me and put his big, masculine arms around my tiny little waist.
Dorothy: I don't believe you.
Blanche: What?
Dorothy: I don't believe he put his big masculine arms around your alleged tiny little waist.
Blanche: Well Dorothy, why would I make up such a thing?
Dorothy: Because you're jealous.
Blanche: Jealous?!
Dorothy: You are used to getting all the attention around here, and now someone comes along and wants me and not you, and it is eating your guts out.
Blanche: Eating my guts out?!
Dorothy: You know, you could never be a real friend to a woman, and you wanna know why?
Blanche: Why?
Dorothy: Because you're a slut!
Blanche: A slut!
Dorothy: Don't repeat everything I say.
Blanche: I'm not repeating everything you say.
Dorothy: You just did.
Blanche: I did not, nothing you say is worth repeating!
Dorothy: You, Blanche, are an immoral, backstabbing, self-centered Jezebel, and I am very glad that this happened, because now I know exactly what kind of person you really are.
Blanche: Well then, to hell with you and your oversexed boyfriend, Dorothy Zbornak! I'm just glad that little Mei Ling's coming out party was ruined!
Dorothy: Who?
Blanche: And, I'm glad that Elliot is bonging every woman at your country club!
Dorothy: What the hell are you talking about?
Blanche: Ask the towel lady!

Blanche: [about the article in the paper about her supposed affair with Gil Kessler] You girls don't believe this. Well, I mean, I'm not denying that's me in the photograph but I am denying that anything happened. I just dropped off his folder.
Dorothy: Then why does it say here that you were in his house for two hours?
Blanche: We were just talking.
Rose: Then why does it say the explosion was so great it shattered windows in the building next door?
Dorothy: Rose, that's an article about an earthquake in Guatemala!

Blanche: [recalling the night her husband died] The night George died, the telephone rang and a highway patrolman said, "Pardon me, ma'am, do you have a yellow convertible and a husband named George?" I said, "Yes, of course, good grief, what's happened?" and he said, "Hold on, ma'am." Put me on hold with that music while you wait. I sat there at two in the morning listenin' to Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. And then, after an eternity, he comes back on the line eatin' chips. And he says, "Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm the only one here, my phone's been ringin' off the hook." And I said, "Officer, what about my husband?" And then he said - crunchin' his chips - "Oh, he's dead. Wrong way driver hit him head-on. Totally dead, ma'am (crunch crunch)."
Dorothy: Oh, no!
Blanche: Puts me on hold and then eats Doritos while he tells me my life is over! [about telling Mrs. Beatty about Al's death] Oh, Rose has to tell her. Rose won't eat chips.
Rose: I never eat chips, I don't like 'em. They fall in my bra.