Blanche: It's just another one of those letters from Merrill. I would read it to you anyway. They're not personal.
Dorothy: Not personal? The man said he wants to lie naked with you on a beach.
Blanche: Sure. And I wrote him I want to make passionate love to him in a hammock suspended between two magnolia trees, you know that couldn't possibly happen.
Rose: Well, maybe if you lose a few pounds.
Blanche: Shut up, Rose.

Rose: I can't believe it. It was only yesterday you were selling us cookies.
Sophia: Now she's giving them away.

Dorothy: Ma, what does Fred's dog have to do with this?
Sophia: It's a known fact that dogs take on the personality traits of their masters.
Dorothy: That's ridiculous.
Sophia: Oh, yeah? Then why does your brother Phil's poodle like to wear that tutu and hop around on his hind legs?
Dorothy: Oh, come on, Ma. I mean, Phil would look pretty stupid doing that by himself.

Blanche: Rose. Oh, Rose!
Rose: Blanche, what's wrong?
Blanche: I never finished reading this letter from Merrill till just now. Read that last paragraph.
Rose: "My sentence has been overturned on a technicality. I'm getting out on the 21st. Now, finally, we can make all our dreams come true."
Blanche: Isn't that terrible?
Rose: Well, he's written catchier stuff, but I wouldn't call it terrible.
Blanche: I'm not asking for a literary critique, you dweeb!

Rose: But isn't that great news? You can finally meet him.
Blanche: I don't want to meet him! I don't want him coming here, the man's a convict.
Sophia: Oh, so Blanche's pen pal is getting out. Gee, that's gonna be rough. I bet after ten years in the jug, he's gonna be pretty short on foreplay.

Dorothy: Ma, what are you doing?
Sophia: Merrill called. He's coming over. I'm hiding all our valuables.
Dorothy: Why?
Sophia: Why? You think the man went to prison for free coveralls and some male bonding?

Merrill: I want Blanche.
Sophia: Break out the finger sandwiches. Mr. Astaire looks like he's hungry.
Merrill: I'm Merrill. Are you Blanche?
Dorothy: No.
Merrill: How about you, cutie?
Sophia: Boy, this guy's done hard time!

Dorothy: Uh, those were lovely letters that you wrote to Blanche, Merrill.
Merrill: No, I didn't write 'em. Walter, the guy in the next cell, did. Wrote 'em to Harley, the night guard. He's hoping to round himself up a date for movie night. I just copied the letters and changed "Dearest Harley" to "Dearest Blanche."
Dorothy: Well, you did make a small contribution, Merrill.
Merrill: Oh, call me Moose, that's my nickname.
Sophia: What a coincidence! That was Dorothy's nickname in elementary school. Remember, Dorothy?
Dorothy: No, I don't.
Sophia: Look, Moose-
Both: What?

Rose: I just had a thought.
Dorothy: Congratulations.
Blanche: Way to go.
Sophia: Overdue.

Dorothy: You were humiliating me.
Sophia: Yeah, right, the slut. And after all she did to me, did I turn her out?
Dorothy: You tried, Ma.
Sophia: But did she go? No. And look at us today. No one could love a daughter more.
Dorothy: Thanks, Ma.
Sophia: So what if I don't respect her.