Blanche: Hi, Sophia. Boy, I tell you, there is nothing more invigorating than spending a little time on a boat.
Sophia: Oh, yeah? Not when I sailed to America. Picture it. There we were, a tired, poor, huddled mass eating marinara sauce out of a can. It was hell. And the entertainment? Some guy from Palermo forgot his accordion, so he sat around singing "0 Solo Mio" while squeezing a monkey.
Blanche: Sophia.
Sophia: Sophia what? It was the worst time of my life. If it weren't for pin the tail on the French, we would've gone stir-crazy.

Rose: We may not agree with the fishermen, but we want this demonstration to be peaceful. In the tradition of you know, the short, bald Indian fellow with the glasses and the diaper. You know, the one who didn't eat and won an Oscar.

Rose: Oh, isn't this exciting? Taking part in a protest. Standing up as free Americans and exercising our right to say: "We're mad as hell and we're not gonna take it anymore!"
Blanche: I'm out of spit. Can I go now?
Rose: Twenty envelopes and you're ready to quit? Blanche, we joined the Friends of Sea Mammals for a reason.
You are so unmotivated.
Blanche: Well, when I joined this Mammals with Blowholes thing, I didn't expect to be carrying picket signs on some grungy dock. I was hoping more for a fundraiser cocktail party with Chinese lanterns and Portuguese, no, Hispanic waiters in tight black pants. And we hire a band to play fish songs in pirate suits with muscles bulging.
Rose: Your mouth is watering now, Blanche. Keep licking.