Blanche: Oh, I know for a fact my parents liked my sisters better than they did me.
Rose: Oh, Blanche, that's silly! How could you know a thing like that?
Blanche: They told me!
Dorothy: Oh, Blanche, I can't believe that your parents told you that! I don't care if they are from the south.
Blanche: Well, they didn't tell me in words. They told me in actions. Like on our birthdays. Now, when we were little, every year, my sisters had huge parties with clowns and magicians and tons of presents.
Dorothy: And you didn't.
Blanche: Well, not exactly. I mean, I did have parties and I had presents but I never had a clown. Not until I was much older.
Dorothy: Much older.
Blanche: Yeah. But that's another story.

Rose: Oh, Gloria, Sophia's told us so much about you. I especially enjoyed the story about your imaginary childhood friend, David, who lived in the oven. I had an imaginary friend, but he'd never tell me his name. It was during spring planting-
Sophia: Rose! Do you mind? Gloria's only staying for a week. I'd like to talk to her before she leaves.

Rose: My parents always made each of us feel like we were the favorite. They loved all nine of us equally. We used to have the best Christmas Eves. Daddy'd sit at Grandma's old player piano and he'd play Christmas carols and the children would sing along, then Mother'd bring in some homemade eggnog and snickerdoodles. And then we'd decorate the tree. And after Daddy'd hung the star at the very top of the tree, we'd all join hands and pray, and then Daddy'd tell us a story and tuck us into our feather beds-
Dorothy: Who was your father? Michael Landon?
Rose: Can I help it if I came from a happy family? Well, we had our share of problems. Believe me, we had some hard times. Once a mysterious drifter stole our butter churn.