Blanche: Barbara, I picked up your first novel the other day.
Barbara: Ah, yes. "So Dark the Waves on Biscayne Bay". I've grown so much as a writer since then.
Blanche: [chuckling] Well, I should hope so.
Dorothy: Blanche.
Barbara: No, it's all right. Did you have a problem with my book, dear?
Blanche: Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. All those waves. Big waves, little waves. Dark waves rolling in. Page after page. I had to take a Dramamine to get through chapter three.
Barbara: Blanche, the waves are a metaphor. You see, a metaphor...
Blanche: I know what a metaphor is, dear. I'm not a dummy.
Rose: Blanche, what's a metaphor?
Blanche: It's when you use a phrase to mean something else. Like when I say, "Men are blinded by my beauty," they're not really blinded. They get their sight back in a day or two.