Blanche: Girls, my father's coming! Big Daddy's coming! He just called! Oh, Big Daddy's gonna be in Miami tomorrow. I can't believe it!
Dorothy: I can't believe I know anyone who calls her father Big Daddy.
Blanche: Back home, everybody calls him Big Daddy. Why, he's the most respected and beloved man in our town. Oh, for as long as I can remember, people from all over the county would drive up to Twin Oaks - that's the name of our house - to ask Big Daddy's advice on one thing or the other. And while the men were discussing business on the veranda, the ladies would retire to the shade of an old magnolia to sip mint juleps and exchange prize-winning pecan pie recipes.
Dorothy: Tell me, Blanche, during any of this, would the farm hands suddenly break into a chorus of "Them Old Cotton Fields Back Home"?

Blanche: Oh, there he is now! Now listen, girls, my father is an old time southern aristocrat who is used to fine manners and gentility. So please, please, please be on your best behavior.
Sophia: Why is everyone looking at me?

Rose: When I think of my father, I always picture him pulling a giant tuna up Main Street.
Blanche: Well, who doesn't, Rose?
Rose: Oh, it wasn't a real tuna, it was made of chrysanthemums. It was the float in the Father's Day Parade. You probably don't know this, but my home town was founded by Heinrich von Anderdonnen, the first man to ever can tuna in its own natural juices. Anyway, it was the 50th anniversary celebration of the founding of our town and my father was chosen to pull the float. He thought it was 'cause he had the newest tractor, but actually, it was 'cause he was the only one small enough to fit into the mayonnaise jar costume. Oh, I'll never forget the moment we caught sight of him, turning off of Sycamore on to Elm. Something must have happened to the tractor, 'cause there he was, this lone little mayonnaise jar dragging this giant tuna up the hill, past the reviewing stand. I don't think I've ever been prouder in my life.
Dorothy: That's very touching, Rose. It shouldn't be, but it is.

Big Daddy: You must be Sophia. It's a pleasure to meet you. [Sophia holds out her hand, which he kisses] Excuse me for staring, ma'am, but I've always felt that the stunning, classical beauty of an Italian woman should be admired like a fine work of art.
Sophia: You need boots to listen to this guy.

Rose: Oh, Sophia, I want to explain about last night. When I was a little girl, one summer we had a terrible thunderstorm-
Sophia: Excuse me, Rose. Have I given you any indication at all that I care?

Dorothy: Morning, Ma.
Sophia: Taste this.
Dorothy: Mm. Oh, it's awful. What's the matter with it?
Sophia: It's expired. But sometimes it's good after the date. I just wanted to check.

Rose: What on Earth do you do with a mechanical bull?
Dorothy: Introduce him to a mechanical cow, Rose.

Dorothy: Oh, Ma, why'd you do that? You just made matters worse with that ridiculous curse.
Sophia: Ridiculous? The curse works, believe me. I've used it before.
Dorothy: Oh, when?
Sophia: Baltimore Colts, New York Jets, 1969. Draw your own conclusions.

Blanche: Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Barton, what can I do for you?
Mr. Barton: I wanna see the witch.
Mrs. Barton: Leonard! Don't call her a witch, you'll get another boil on your butt.
Mr. Barton: Tell the world, Gladys! [to Sophia] Look, you've won. I'm begging you, take off the curse, will you? My golf clubs are missing, my clocks are all wrong, I can't sleep, I can't eat!
Dorothy: You can't sit.
Mr. Barton: That, too. Please take it off.
Sophia: Move the tree.
Mr. Barton: It'll be out of here tomorrow.
Sophia: You got a deal. [Sophia raises her hand up to her mouth]
Mr. Barton: Does that mean it's gone?
Sophia: That means I shouldn't eat asparagus at dinner. That means it's gone.

Mr. Barton: Let's get out of here, Gladys. [exits]
Mrs. Barton: I'll be right there. I just wanted to apologize to you ladies. Leonard has been just terrible about this whole situation. That's why I did all those things to him.
Blanche: Oh! It was you all along!
Mrs. Barton: Except for the boil, that was just luck.
Mr. Barton: [returns] Gladys, we've got to go. Listen, ladies, if there's anything that I can do for you to improve our relationship, I'd be happy to oblige.
Dorothy: There is one small thing. Uh, in the morning when you go out in your robe to pick up the newspaper, wear your shorts.