Dorothy: I'm crazy about him. He wants so much to learn. You know, he gets this look in his eyes when he's listening. You don't see that look very often. I think that that look is the whole reason that teachers teach. Of course, there's a similar look that means, "I'm gonna slash your tires." But an experienced teacher can tell the difference.

Rose: Blanche, I feel just awful about this.
Blanche: Oh, just forget about it, Rose. I never intended to keep those earrings my entire life, like my momma did. And my grandmomma. And my great-grandmomma, who fashioned those earrings herself from the Civil War bullets that killed Great-Grandaddy.

Dorothy: Rose, listen. I'm going to ask a question that I know I'm going to hate myself for asking, but whatever happened to Lars's missing leg?
Rose: Oh, they found it, at the annual Edelweiss and Jarlsberg Choral Festival. Uncle Ben had used it to beat off the wolves when he was setting up the bleachers.
Dorothy: Just as I suspected.

Blanche: I'm sorry, Rose. I just don't feel comfortable having you work for me.
Sophia: I do. You wanna be my servant, Rose?
Rose: Blanche, I'm not talking about big things. I'm talking about little things, like doing your laundry.
Sophia: My laundry's more fun, Rose.
Rose: It's the only way I'll feel better about losing your earrings.
Sophia: Ever see panties from the '20s, Rose?

Blanche: Oh, I just don't feel right about it.
Rose: You don't feel right about it? Well, what about me? What about the guilt that twists deeper and deeper inside me? What about the tortured days and the sleepless nights I've spent trying to think of some way to make up for this horrible thing I've done? Oh, Blanche. Don't be so selfish. Let me be your videnfrogen.
Blanche: Oh, all right. You can be my vleedenflugen.
Rose: Frogen.

Rose: I made it as fast as I could.
Blanche: I just couldn't believe you forgot the peanut-butter vanilla ice cream. That's Mario's favorite.
Rose: I was so sure chocolate was his favorite. That's why I bought it this morning.
Blanche: Oh, my goodness me! I think you're right. Well, whose favorite is the peanut butter? Oh, it must be mine! Just put that in the freezer for me, would you, Rose? Mmm, videnfrogens, what a lovely idea. If we'd had them in the old days, we wouldn't have had to fight that disruptive Civil War.

Dorothy: Blanche, has anyone seen today's paper?
Blanche: Oh, I think Sophia left it on out the lanai. Oh, just in time. Rose, would you fetch the paper?
Rose: Okey-dokey.
Dorothy: Seems like you've gotten more comfortable giving Rose things to do.
Blanche: Oh, well, deep down it still saddens me, but I think psychologically it's very important to Rose. I'm just careful not to give her anything too demeaning.
Rose: Here it is. Should I read it to you and massage your feet, like I did this morning?
Blanche: No. Why don't you just be a good little videnfrogen and keep your mouth shut.

Rose: Blanche, could you come out here?
Blanche: What's wrong, honey?
Rose: Er that was Sam Burns. He found these in his love seat.
Blanche: My earrings! Thank you.
Rose: Aren't we forgetting something?
Blanche: What?
Rose: An apology.
Blanche: Oh, honey, you don't have to apologize for sleeping with Sam. Everybody does.
Rose: Blanche Devereaux, you sit down and shut up and listen. I did not sleep with him and I did not lose the earrings. You did. Not to mention my watch, which I didn't even know you'd borrowed.
Blanche: I thought I'd mentioned that.
Rose: No, you didn't.
Blanche: Well, I'm sorry.
Rose: Well, "sorry" doesn't cut it, Blanche. I've spent all week making your bed, making your breakfast, making your stinking tuna sandwiches with the crusts cut off. And for what? For nothing. Well, it's all over now. You won't have this videnfrogen to kick around anymore.

Rose: Oh, Dorothy, you've had a rough day. I'll tell you what. You go on and get into bed, and I'll bring you a nice cup of hot chocolate.
Dorothy: Oh, you don't have to do that, Rose.
Rose: Oh, I want to. I'll bring you some cookies and move the TV into your room.
Dorothy: You really don't have to bother.
Rose: Oh, it's no bother.
Dorothy: Thanks.
Rose: You heard her, Blanche. Get cracking.

Sophia: Blanche, I want to ask a question. Who is the President married to?
Blanche: Nancy Reagan.
Sophia: Of course. The thin one he helps out of helicopters. This idiot thinks he's married to Broderick Crawford. Get some help, Rose.