Blanche: Dorothy, can I ask you a question? What do you think I oughta do with my bed?
Dorothy: Put it in the Smithsonian, Blanche. It has more miles on it than the Spirit of St. Louis.

Rose: I'm nuts about that guy.
Dorothy: You'd have to be.
Rose: But, you know, it's so strange. You have no idea what it's like dating a superhero.
Dorothy: Sure I can. Why, my Stan and Superman had a lot in common. They were both faster than a speeding bullet.

Blanche: Oh, I am exhausted. I have spent this entire day bed-shopping.
Sophia: Have you no shame?
Blanche: Bed-hopping nowadays is sexually irresponsible.
Dorothy: Not bed-hopping, Ma. Bed-shopping.
Sophia: Yeah, right. Nice cover.
Blanche: It's true. I need a new bed. My old one is falling apart. [Dorothy puts a cookie in Sophia's mouth] The prices are outrageous. The bed I wanted cost more than the original down payment on my first house.
Sophia: In Sicily, beds were dirt-cheap. Of course it was because you slept on dirt. Just an observation. If my name were Mark Twain, you'd be writing this stuff down.