Sophia: Oh, my God. That's the cutest baby I've ever seen.
Dorothy: Ma, it's a pig!
Sophia: Hey, you were no great looker when I brought you home from the hospital. I loved you anyway.

Sophia: Is this 6151 Richmond Street?
Dorothy: Ma, what's the matter?
Sophia: Oh, Dorothy, thank God it's you. I broke my glasses at the mall and I can't see a thing. It- It took it took me six hours to find my way home.
Dorothy: Ma, if you couldn't see, why didn't you call me to come get you?
Sophia: I tried to, but every time I put in a dime and dialed, a condom popped out. I got five in my pocket. Here, Dorothy. A lifetime supply.

Rose: Oh, Blanche, we don't have anything to worry about. If we give that baby love and attention and understanding, it'll turn out fine.
Dorothy: That's beautiful.
Rose: Besides, what does Spock know about raising babies? On Vulcan, all the kids are born in pods.
Dorothy: Rose, I know this is a long shot, but, did you take much acid during the '60s?

Blanche: Well, Rose Nylund, shame on you. Caught with a gentleman caller in the middle of the afternoon.
Rose: Oh, he's not a gentleman caller. He's a veterinarian, here to see Baby.
Dorothy: Oh. Uh, how is Baby, doc?
Sophia: I read in Newsweek they ran him out of Haiti.

Dorothy: What do you say, Ma?
Sophia: What choice do I have? If I say no, I'll be back at the home building log cabins out of popsicle sticks.

Blanche: Girls, I'm just so mad. That pig tore up my nightgown last night.
Sophia: Blanche, the people you date are from foreign countries. They play by different rules.
Blanche: Oh, I'm talking about Baby. I never should've let that filthy, barnyard beast in my house in the first place. He ruins my clothes, smells up the whole house, and he likes to watch me take a shower.
Sophia: He's a pig. There's no accounting for taste.

Blanche: Dorothy, which one of these necklaces do you think looks better with this dress? This gold chain or the pearls?
Dorothy: They both look nice, Blanche.
Blanche: I'm just not sure about the pearls. Do you think pearls nestled in the ample cleavage revealed by my clinging low-cut gown somehow might suggest I'm nothing but a cheap, easy, good time?
Dorothy: They might.
Blanche: That settles it. Pearls it is.

Rose: Sophia!
Sophia: Rose, what are you doing in the bathroom?
Dorothy: Ma, this is the kitchen.
Sophia: Oh, boy, if this is the kitchen, I'm poaching an egg in the toilet.

Rose: There you are. You get in the kitchen and eat your slop before I spank that little pink fanny.
Sophia: All right, I'm going. I'm going. ... Oh, sorry, that's the way they used to call us for dinner at the home.

Dorothy: Rose, I thought we decided that that pig was gonna stay in the pen out back.
Rose: He didn't like it there. It was too confining. Oh, but Baby's a free spirit. A wanderer. A rebel. You know, in a lot of ways he reminds me of Jimmy Dean.
Dorothy: The actor or the sausage?