Dorothy: Oh, Rose, I have a date. Do you plan to use your silver bracelet tonight?
Rose: I plan to spend the evening reorganizing my recipe file.
Dorothy: Oh, are you going to dress for the occasion, or can I borrow the bracelet?
Rose: All yours.

Rose: It was during the Korean conflict. I was rejected as a WAC. I failed the ink-blot test.
Dorothy: Oh come on, Rose, now how can you fail an ink-blot test?
Rose: I didn't know you weren't supposed to cut them out. I never felt so rejected in my life. Until now.

Blanche: Besides, I'm kind of proud of the job we've done on Isaac. I'd hate to see him go, myself.
Dorothy: We have created a poetry-writing citrus farmer, who writes letters with a lavender felt pen. And Rose thinks he's the most fascinating creature on earth. Now, what do you think that says?
Blanche: About Rose?
Dorothy: About the whole bunch of us.

Sophia: Dorothy, I got a big problem.
Dorothy: The Metamucil's in the top cabinet.
Sophia: I'm talking about the Cheswick dude. I finally sat the old man down and explained that at 90 there would never, never be anything between us.
Dorothy: What did he say?
Sophia: He said, "Not never, but with a little luck every six or seven weeks."

Dorothy: Oh, ma, have you seen my dress watch?
Sophia: It's on my wrist. I borrowed it.
Dorothy: I was going to wear it tonight. Can't you ask?
Sophia: I didn't want to disturb you while you were having so much trouble taming your cowlick.

Blanche: Are you telling us you got your date out of the phone book?
Rose: Well, Blanche, you make it sound like I found him in the Yellow Pages. It's not like I don't know him.
Dorothy: Uh, Rose, exactly what did he say when you called him?
Rose: Well, I'm afraid I was pretty nervous and excited, so I didn't give him much chance to say anything.
Dorothy: But he accepted your invitation?
Rose: I told him I wouldn't take no for an answer. I'd better finish getting ready. Oh, Blanche, would it be okay if borrowed my beaded purse?

Blanche: Besides, it's just for this one date. The day after tomorrow he leaves for Saskatchewan.
Dorothy: He doesn't leave for anywhere. We made that up.

Wilfred: Good evening. Wilfred Whitney Cheswick here. Might this be the home of the widow Petrillo? Well, there you are, Sophia.
Sophia: Willy, what the hell are you doing here?
Wilfred: I've come to escort you to the reception, and I won't take no for an answer.
Sophia: Oh, yeah? Take this for an answer. [makes a rude Italian gesture]
Dorothy: Ma.
Sophia: Alright, Cheswick. You rented the monkey suit, you might as well get your money's worth. But if anybody cute asks me to dance, make yourself scarce.
Wilfred: Once I have you in my arms on that dance floor, Sophia, you won't so much as glance at another man.
Sophia: Dream on, Piccadilly.

Blanche: You must be Isaac Newton?
Isaac Newton: Yes, I am.
Dorothy: I bet you take a lot of kidding about that.
Isaac Newton: About what?
Dorothy: ... Rose should be ready any moment. Just make yourself comfortable.
Isaac Newton: Oh, no, I couldn't. I'm never comfortable. You wouldn't know it because I'm not lifting my arms, but I've nearly sweated through this suit.
Blanche: I guess Rose forgot to mention the reception tonight's black-tie.
Isaac Newton: I have it in my pocket.

Rose: Hi. I'm ready.
Dorothy: Rose, this is Isaac.
Isaac Newton: Wow. You're really beautiful.
Rose: Thank you, Isaac.
Dorothy: Rose, Blanche and I have to talk to you right now.
Isaac Newton: That's a very nice dress, Rose.
Rose: Thank you. I've worn it once before. But the pantyhose are new.
Dorothy: Listen, Rose. Rose, if Blanche and I could just see you outside on the lanai for just a few moments.
Isaac Newton: If I may be so bold, the pantyhose are nice, too. At least the hose part.
Rose: I can't tell you how happy I am to finally meet you, Isaac.