George: Oh, honey, you don't have to ask my forgiveness for anything. I love you. Good God, you're as pretty now as the day we met. You remember that first day we met?
Blanche: The University Club Cotillion. Our eyes met and I knew you were the only man for me. So when it was ladies' choice, I sent my fiance off for some punch, and I strutted up to you and I said, "May I have this dance?"
George: And I said, "The pleasure would be all mine."
Blanche: And I said, "I know it." Oh, those damn eyes. I still haven't seen in anyone else's what I see in yours.
[Blanche wakes up in bed, she looks and places her hand on the vacant pillow next to her]
Blanche: Oh! Oh. [chuckles]

Blanche: George, is that really you?
George: It's me, Blanche.
Blanche: But you're dead. At least you're supposed to be. I buried you nine years ago. What in hell is going on?
George: Well, I guess the best thing to do is just give it to you plain and simple. Blanche, I staged my death.
Sophia: [o.s.] He stained his desk?!

George: So, did you make a decision?
Blanche: Before I can even think about that, there's something I gotta do for me. I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I need to ask for your forgiveness.
George: What? I'm the one who should be down on my knees after what I did.
Blanche: George, the day you died - or didn't die - I was home alone when the phone rang. I ran to answer it and I tripped over your damn shoes, and I said, "Oh, George, I hate you." It was the police telling me you'd been in an accident. Never thought I'd have the chance, but I'm just so sorry my last thoughts of you were "I hate you."
George: Well, honey, you always were fiery. I love that about you.
Blanche: There's more. Since the funeral, I've been with other men. Many, many men. I always felt like I was cheating on ya.
George: Oh, Blanche, every day I was gone, I always wished you'd find somebody who could make you happy. How-how many men?
Blanche: Two.