Dorothy: Blanche, I need to talk to you privately.
Blanche: OK.
Dorothy: There's this person, someone I've known for quite a while, and lately there seems to be this attraction developing, an attraction I've been trying to deny. [Blanche stands up and backs away] Blanche, what are you doing?
Blanche: It's a curse. My beauty's always been a curse. I'm sorry, Dorothy, but like the fatal blossom of the graceful jimson weed, I entice with my fragrance but can provide no succor.
Dorothy: I'm talking about Stanley, you idiot.
Blanche: Get outta here. Stan has the hots for me?
Dorothy: For me, not you, fatal blossom. For me.