Dorothy: Oh, where is Dr. Warren? This is insane. Where do doctors go in the middle of the night?
Blanche: Well, their call rooms are up on the 12th floor, but you have to take the back stairs to get to 'em. Unless you have that special key for the main elevator. I'm guessin'.

Blanche: You know who my fantasy parents were?
Dorothy: Who, Blanche, Masters and Johnson?
Blanche: Not my fantasy neighbors. No, my fantasy mother was the Queen of England, and then she died and I became queen. And all the men were very happy for all the obvious reasons. And I looked cute on the money. 'Course, all the women were unhappy, but screw 'em. I was queen.

Dorothy: Oh, Ma, I'm so sorry about everything. I'm sorry I asked you to move that sofa. I'm sorry that you're sick.
I swear I'll never ask you to move furniture again. Oh, God, I'm just so happy you're safe.
Sophia: Speaking of God, I made a little promise that if He got me through this operation alive, I would tell you the truth about how I got this hernia.
Dorothy: You mean, not from lifting up the sofa?
Sophia: Oh, please, it's wicker. A few of us gals thought it would be funny to put Gladys' VW on the lawn while she was having her feet sanded. And that's why I'm on this gurney, Pussycat.
Dorothy: Ma, it's OK. As long as I found you. Rose, push "Morgue."