Dorothy: Ma, Ma, listen to this. "Saxophone player wanted at the Hacienda Hut cocktail lounge." What do you think?
Sophia: I guess I could learn.
Dorothy: Ma, not for you, for Michael.

Dorothy: Stanley, why are you here?
Stan: Michael and I made plans to see each other tonight. You know, a real father-son evening, where we can rap and share our feelings and create good vibes.
Dorothy: I can dig it. Where are you taking him?
Stan: The Hacienda Hut. Thought I'd show the kid the town, give him some quality time. Maybe it'll make up for never teaching him how to ride a bicycle.
Blanche: Stanley, how come I've never seen you at the Hacienda Hut?
Stan: I never have to stay long. I'm a chick magnet. That's why they call me Mr. Lucky.
Dorothy: You mean, for 38 years I was Mrs. Lucky and never knew it? What about the present Mrs. Lucky? Does she know what a maggot you are?
Stan: Magnet, Dorothy. Magnet.

Michael: OK, let's jam.
Stan: That's my boy.
Michael: That's my dad.
Dorothy: That's my money.

Blanche: Dorothy, you gave him money again? Oh! When are you gonna realize that you will never have a good relationship with your children until you stop doing all the things for them they should be doing for themselves.
Sophia: Dorothy, I finished your blouse.
Dorothy: And the socks?
Sophia: Get right on it.

Blanche: How are you feeling, Dorothy?
Dorothy: My life is falling apart. And now Rose is bothering me.
Rose: Dorothy, I'm sorry I bothered you.
Dorothy: I'm sorry I snapped at you, Rose. It's just that I'm upset. I am very upset.
Rose: It is because you threw Michael out?
Dorothy: No, it's because I can't make any sense out of those commercials for Obsession. Of course it's because of Michael.

Dorothy: OK, Stanley, what do you wanna talk about?
Stan: It's about Michael.
Dorothy: What's wrong? What happened?
Stan: Why do you have so many cheesecakes?
Dorothy: What about Michael?
Stan: He's fine. He's living the life of Riley. I cook his meals, I change his sheets, I pay his bills. He's making my life miserable, Dorothy.
Dorothy: Stanley, pull yourself together.
Stan: I'm sorry. It's not just the disruption to my life, it's seeing him do nothing with his.

Dorothy: Stanley, you took him in. Now it is your problem, and you are going to have to deal with it.
Stan: You're right. There's only one thing I can do, and it's the hardest thing.
Dorothy: You're going to ask Michael to leave your home.
Stan: No. I'm gonna ask you to ask Michael to leave my home. He already resents you. Why should he be mad at me too?
Dorothy: I've heard enough. Get out.
Stan: See? You're great at throwing people out.

Dorothy: Stanley, you're going to have to throw your own son out of your own house.
Stan: Dorothy, I can't. How can I sit in judgment of how Michael lives his life? Here I am, a middle-aged man selling novelties for a living. You know, things could've been different if I'd applied myself thirty years ago.
Dorothy: You could have invented plastic vomit, instead of just selling it.

Rose: Enrique since I've been working here I can't move my head anymore, my back hurts, I can't sleep, I have trouble digesting food, I see spots before my eyes. I'm not a doctor, but I think it could be stress.
Enrique Mas: Please. This sounds very important. We should discuss this over coffee.
Rose: Cream and sugar?
Enrique Mas: And a treat. Surprise me.
Rose: You see, that's part of it. I mean, I can't possibly handle all the things you give me to do. Oh, I feel like such a failure. Here you've trusted me with a really important job, and I'm just not doing it.
Enrique Mas: I know how hard your job is, and how good you are at it. Until you started working for me, my neck was like that.
Rose: Well, no wonder I'm cracking.
Enrique Mas: I don't want you to crack, Rose. I need you. Do you believe that?
Rose: Yes.
Enrique Mas: [to make-up artist] Enough 34. Really, Rose, speaking from the heart and not from the makeup, you're the best. That's why I work you like a dog. Out of respect.
Rose: Thank you.
Enrique Mas: But I don't want to kill you. So I'm going to hire an assistant for you, Rose.
Rose: An assistant for me? I can't believe it!
Enrique Mas: You can't? I must be fading. More 34. Rose, first thing tomorrow you get your assistant.