Blanche: You know, ever since the funeral I've had this dream where it's all a mistake and George is really alive. And I just feel so happy. We see each other, we run to embrace, but just before we hug - always just before we hug - I wake up. And I lie there for a split second thinking George is asleep beside me. Until it dawns on me one more time that he's really gone, and I grieve again. I grieved for that man nine years! How can I forgive that?
Dorothy: Oh, Blanche, honey, you need to get ahold of yourself.
Blanche: What I need is for things to be like they were this morning, before any of this ever happened. You know, as far as I'm concerned, George Devereaux is better off dead.