Sophia: Let me tell you two a story.
Dorothy & Blanche: No.
Sophia: A short story.
Dorothy & Blanche: No.
Sophia: An anecdote. I won't take no for an answer. Picture this. Ninety-year-old twins, Ralph & Nunzio, sitting on a park bench. Ralph says to Nunzio, "Hey, whatever happened to that streaking craze?" And Nunzio says, "What streaking craze?" And Ralph says, "Remember, when everybody took off their clothes and ran down the street." So Nunzio says, "Hey, that sounds like fun. I think I'll do it right now." So, at 90 years old, he gets naked and goes off down the street, right past these two old ladies, Carlotta and Maria. Maria turns to Carlotta and says, "What the hell was that?" And Carlotta says, "I don't know, but whatever it was, it sure needs ironing."
Dorothy: Ma, what's the point?
Sophia: With a story, you get a point. With an anecdote, pure entertainment.

Blanche: Now, who in hell was that?
Dorothy: Another one of Rose's new friends.
Blanche: Friends? They're more like animals. All they do is party and carry on all hours of the night. I am abhorred.
Sophia: We know what you are, Blanche. I'm glad to hear you finally admit it.
Blanche: Sophia, I said abhorred.
Sophia: A whore, a slut, a tramp, it's all the same.
Dorothy: Ma, we're talking about Rose.
Sophia: Yeah, lately she's been a whore, too.

Dorothy: Do you believe her? She doesn't stop for a minute.
Blanche: I don't agree with it, but I do understand the thinking behind it. My granddaddy was the same way. He always said, "Idle hands are the devil's workshop." Course he also said, "Sitting on cold concrete will cause hemorrhoids." So we just sort of learned when to ignore him.

Sophia: Would you two knock it off? I'm telling you there's nothing to worry about.
Dorothy: Ma, how would you you know that?
Sophia: When you reach my age, you get pretty good at spotting the 12 warning signs of death.
Blanche: What are they?
Sophia: Number one, your children start visiting during the week. Number two, your doctor won't let you postdate a check. Number three, you can't eat Cream O' Wheat because it's too spicy.
Dorothy: Will you stop? Will you stop? I mean, this could be serious.
Sophia: Of course it could. That's why I'm trying not to think about it. I'll be honest, if anything happened to Rose, it would be like losing one of my own children. I'm going to the cafeteria. My canasta club gives this hospital's jello three stars.

Rose: Look, I know it sounds crazy. That's why I wouldn't tell anybody but my two closest friends. But it's true. It really is. I died and went to heaven. Well, it wasn't actually heaven proper. It was somewhere on the outskirts.
Blanche: You died and went to a suburb of heaven?
Rose: No. No, it was an enormous train station. Like Grand Central, only cleaner. And without Hare Krishnas asking for money. There were people everywhere, rushing off to catch trains, sitting on benches, browsing in the souvenir shop.
Blanche: The souvenir shop?
Dorothy: Of course, Blanche. They were all buying T-shirts. You know, the ones that say, "Today is the first day of the end of your life."
Rose: 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". Well, I was so stunned, I just started wandering aimlessly through this train station, when I heard a familiar voice calling, "Wose. Wose. Is that weally you?" It was my Uncle Johannsen. He died when I was nine years old. A steam shovel hit him in the mouth. Oh, I was so happy to see a familiar face.
Blanche: Well, at least from the nose up.
Rose: Right. Anyway, Uncle Johannsen asked to see my ticket. And he said, "Whoa. Wose, this is a wound-twip ticket. You can go back and continue to live your life. But before you go, I have two pieces of advice. Don't get hit in the mouth with a steam shovel, that can kill you. And make the most of the time you're given. You'd be surpwised how quickly it goes."

Dorothy: Rose. Ever since she took that death trip, she's been a different person.
Blanche: Well, that's no excuse. Shirley MacLaine died five or six times, and she's just sweet as pie.

Dorothy: Ma got a letter from Gina Marie Donatelli. Her cousin Joe is hanging new wallpaper in Tony Bennett's guest bathroom.
Rose: Oh, I love Tony Bennett.
Blanche: Oh, so do I. He was always so sweet to me.
Dorothy: Blanche, you dated Tony Bennett?
Blanche: Honey, I did more than date him. He may have left his heart in San Francisco, but he left his shorts on my radiator.
Rose: You're kidding.
Blanche: Hell, no. Picture this...

Sophia: Rose, before you go, I just want to give you a little advice. Sometimes in life, you start out down one path. Suddenly, the wind changes direction, and you find yourself swimming upstream, looking for new horizons.
Dorothy: Ma, what the hell does that mean?
Sophia: Don't get smart with me. If I was a short, bald guy in a diaper spouting this gibberish, I'd be running India.

Rose: Dorothy, what are you doing up?
Dorothy: Her banging woke me.
Sophia: What are you talking about?
Dorothy: The toilet seat, Ma. Four women live in this house. The toilet seat never has to move. You always manage to make it bang.
Sophia: Forgive me, sweetheart. Why don't you just get me a litter box to keep next to my night stand?

Blanche: Well, the wildest part of the evening was when the busboy dropped his crumb brush in my lap.
Dorothy: Not the man of your dreams?
Blanche: On a scale of one to ten, he's a seven.
Rose: Oh, well that's not bad.
Blanche: Actually, he was more like a five, but he just looked so good with me on his arm, I gave him another two points.