Sophia: I wouldn't be so sure if I were Blanche. Sometimes these things aren't meant to be. Like me and Fabrizio Ribeno. We were on the verge of a passionate love affair when Destiny intervened.
Dorothy: Don't tell me. His wife, Destiny Ribeno?
Sophia: Right. Boy, did she have a temper. She dragged him away by the hair on his back, smashed his skull with a ravioli crank, and threw his limp body in the river. That's a Sicily you don't see on postcards.

Dorothy: You know, sometimes people can lose their looks.
Sophia: Not in Sicily. In Sicily, if you're born beautiful, you stay beautiful. The whole town sees to it. They check up on you, they encourage you, they never let you slip. That's why we were so happy when Dorothy was born.
Dorothy: Oh, Ma.
Sophia: Who needed all those people bothering us all the time!

Rose: You know something, Dorothy? You don't have to tell me this if you don't want to, but underneath it all you believe in them, don't you? You did from the very beginning. Oh, I'm glad. It's more fun. It's like with Santa Claus. The best Christmas we ever had was when all eight of my brothers and sisters, from Lily to Michael, all still believed. That must be ten years ago now.