Dorothy: You walked out on me and you didn't have the decency to tell me you were leaving. I heard it from some lawyer over the telephone. A stranger, Stanley, a total stranger, told me that my marriage was over.
Stan: Dorothy, look, things happened.
Dorothy: Things happened? You're damn right things happened. Thirty-eight years happened. Thirty-eight years of sharing and crying and dreaming and fighting and loving and children and diapers and school plays and Little League. And worrying if you'd get through your gallbladder surgery. And wondering if I'd get through another Sunday dinner at your mother's house. And the lean years, when the business failed. And the good years, and the happy Christmases. All those things happened, Stanley. And because they happened, I deserved better than a stinking phone call from my husband's legal representative. You had a choice, Stanley, and you took the easy way out. And it was a rotten thing to do! But now you're here in front of me and you can't run away. And I finally get to have what you tried to cheat me out of. I finally get to say goodbye, Stanley.
Stan: Look, Dorothy, we-
Dorothy: I said goodbye, Stanley.

Sophia: You're acting like a jerk.
Dorothy: Thanks, Ma. Thanks. That really makes me feel a lot better.
Sophia: Don't get smart with your mother! Listen, Dorothy, I love you dearly, but you're not the first woman to be dumped by her husband.
Dorothy: Oh, Ma, Ma, it's not what he did. I mean, I've learned to live with that. It's the way he did it. The least he could have done was tell me to my face.
Sophia: If you're so angry with him, tell him. You don't have to kill him.
Dorothy: I know. But I want to.
Sophia: Dorothy, anger is a lot like a piece of shredded wheat caught under your dentures. If you leave it there, you get a blister and you gotta eat Jell-O all week. If you get rid of it, the sore heals, and you feel better.
Dorothy: Anger is like a piece of shredded wheat?
Sophia: You want poetry, you listen to Neil Diamond. You want good advice? You listen to your mother.
Dorothy: Maybe you're right.
Sophia: Of course I'm right. You think I got this old by being stupid?
Dorothy: You know, you're the greatest mother in the world.
Sophia: Tell me something I don't know.

Dorothy: Relax honey. I just want to get it all out of my system before he gets here. Now go ahead, call him.
Kate: I'll call him. You talk to him.
Dorothy: All right. If I can get through an entire wedding with him, I should be able to handle a simple phone conversation with that yellow-bellied sleazeball! [on the phone] Hello, Stan? Dorothy. Dorothy Zbornak The one who gave you the best years of her thighs. Yes, I'm fine, fine. Yeah, it has been a long time. Yeah, well, you know, after two years, I figured you weren't coming back. No, I'll tell you the reason I'm calling you, Kate is getting married. Yes, married. Yes, yes, in a few days, and I'm giving her a little wedding here in Miami and I wanted to invite you. Can you come? You can? Great. Oh, Chrissy can't, oh- Oh, I'm so sorry. Oh, really? No, I didn't know that could happen from a tanning machine. Oh, she'll be thrilled to see you too! She's standing right here. Hold on.
Blanche: Dorothy, you were magnificent!
Rose: Oh, you certainly were! How did you do it?
Dorothy: I just kept telling myself that once he was here, he'd be close enough to kill.

Dorothy: Oh, flowers! Oh, my! You know, your father used to bring me tulips every time we had a fight. Toward the end, our place looked like Easter in Rotterdam.

Blanche: Well, a podiatrist. Well, that's a very fascinating profession. Tell me, Dennis, approximately how many feet do you see in a week?
Dennis: Between my partners and me, we see quite a few.
Blanche: Oh, it's a partnership.
Rose: Have you ever met Dr. Scholl?

Kate: Uh Grandma, why don't you come with me and Daddy.
Stan: Come on, Sophia. It'll be fun. We can catch up with old times.
Sophia: No, we can't. I had a stroke. Luckily, my memories of you were wiped out!

Rose: Oh, she's really upset. We better keep an eye on her.
Blanche: You're right. We better stick to her like a tight shirt on a sweaty farmhand! You know the type, with the big biceps and the hairy chest, just glistening in the hot sun... I'm sorry, what were we talking about?

Rose: Blanche, don't you think it's time we cut the cake?
Blanche: Oh, yes, I do, Rose!
Sophia: Who invited the priest? You know I can't cut loose with a priest around.
Rose: Sophia, he happens to be a very nice man.
Sophia: He gives me the creeps. He's been following me. They always follow the old people. It's like parking tickets. They got a last rites quota.
The Priest: Sophia, there you are. I've been looking all over for you.
Sophia: Buzz off, Padre.

Rose: Oh, my God! Give me that knife!
Dorothy: What are you doing?
Rose: I can't let you go through with this! Do you want to spend the rest of your life rotting away in some disgusting jail cell, bribing screws for cigarettes and toilet paper?
Dorothy: Rose, in Miami, it is not a felony to cut the wedding cake!
Rose: Cut the wedd... Oh, I thought you were gonna stab Stan.
Dorothy: Don't be ridiculous! I mean, do you honestly believe I would stab Stan at my own daughter's wedding?
Rose: Oh, no, I guess not.
Dorothy: Well, of course not! I would wait until after the wedding. There are too many witnesses.

Dorothy: Oh, Rose. I'd like you to meet my ex-husband, Stan Zbornak.
Rose: Hello.
Dorothy: And this is his hair.
Rose: It's a pleasure to meet you both.