Blanche: What's the most romantic thing a man did for you, Dorothy?
Dorothy: Oh, well, the most romantic thing was when Stan proposed. He took me to a very expensive restaurant, and I went to the powder room, and when I returned, there was an open bottle of Dom Perignon and two filled glasses. And we clinked the glasses in a toast, and Stan gave me a coy smile, and I winked at him, and then I just downed the champagne in one gulp. And it didn't go down smoothly. Later, Stan told me that he put my engagement ring in the bottom of the glass.
Rose: Aw. Aw.
Dorothy: It turned up three days later.
Rose: Where'd it turn up, Dorothy?
Dorothy: On the Home Shopping Network, Rose!

Rose: Blanche, what was the most romantic thing a man ever did for you?
Blanche: Oh, that's easy. When George and I were courting and it was getting to the intimate stage, we went for a date in his big old Packard. Well, halfway home, we ran outta gas. It was dark, it was cold. So we held each other close. Both of us knew, right then and there, this was the night. Sure enough, pretty soon the windows were all fogged up from the heat generated by our bodies. After we were married, I told George that the only thing that could've made that evening more romantic was if we'd had candles and wine and a big blanket. So, on our tenth anniversary, George fired up the old Packard, and we drove along the same route as on that date, and, would't you know, we ran out of gas on exactly the same spot. Well, George said, "Blanche, why don't you look behind that tree?" So I did, and there was a basket with candles and wine and two long-stem glasses and a big blanket. We had a perfect evening.
Dorothy: Oh. Oh, that is beautiful, Blanche.
Rose: But isn't it a shame you didn't look behind the tree the first time? You could have had two perfect dates.

Rose: Oh. I see you're with my two double-crossing ex-friends. I'll come back later.
Sophia: What do you think this is, the 7-Eleven? I'm not open all night.

Sophia: It's my fault. He thought the only way he could keep me was if he had money to buy me expensive things. I gotta convince him to turn himself in. If he doesn't, I'll go to the police myself. It's the last time I let a man toy with my affections. From now on, it's strictly physical.

Rose: Okay, Blanche. You landed on sports. Here's the question. "What famous football player wore panty hose-"
Blanche: Doug Curloff, Tampa Bay Bucs, New Year's Eve. We were at the Holiday Inn near the airport.
Dorothy: The complete question is, "-wore panty hose in a magazine advertisement?"
Blanche: How the hell would I know? If I want to see a man in panty hose, I don't have to go out and buy a magazine.

Blanche: Okay, music history. Here goes. "What famous Mozart composition, completed in 1787, is a serenade in G for two violins, viola, cello, and double bass in four movements?"
Rose: Eine Kleine Nachtmusik.
Blanche: That's right. How did you know that?
Rose: Well, they always play it during the chases on The Bugs Bunny-Roadrunner Show. There was- There was this one where Elmer Fudd was chasing Bugs, and he stuck his gun down a hole in the ground that Bugs had painted-
Dorothy: Excuse me, Rose. Blanche, could I see the rule book? Thank you. [hits Rose on the head]

Sophia: All right, it's late, I'm tired, so listen up.
Dorothy: Oh, Ma, you gonna tell us a story?
Sophia: No. I'm going to do shadow puppets. See? An elephant eating a peanut. Happy? Of course I'm gonna tell a story. Picture it: Morocco, the '30s.
Rose: The 1930s?
Sophia: No, 30 degrees. Do I look like Willard Scott? Of course the 1930s. Three close friends are haggling over a Camel.
Rose: How many humps?
Sophia: None! I'm talkin' about a cigarette. It was the last one. Well, anyway...
Dorothy: Oh, Ma, what does this have to do with the diary?
Sophia: Suddenly I'm on Nightline. I was just tryin' to tell a story here.

Dorothy: Ma, what are you doing?
Sophia: Losing. It's strip poker.
Dorothy: That's it! Game's over.
Sophia: Who do you think you are? Donald Trump? You don't own this casino.

Dorothy: Hi, Ma.
Sophia: What the hell are you doin' home? I thought you had a four o'clock beauty appointment.
Dorothy: I did. They finished early.
Sophia: On Christie Brinkley they can finish early. You need every minute they can spare. Now get back there.

Dorothy: Ma, I'm telling you, the man is bad news. He has no job. He gambles all the time. What kind of future does he have?
Sophia: Future? Please. He's 85. The man's got so little time, he only uses the ten-items-or-less line at the supermarket.