Sophia: Dorothy, let me tell you a story. Picture it. Sicily, 1922. A young military officer stationed far from home. He wanders the streets seeking a friendly face and a glass of Chianti. Finally, he happens into a dusty little cafe where he finds both. The man laughs for the first time in months. And finds inspiration in a beautiful peasant girl, wise beyond her years. When the cafe is closed, she takes him home with her. Three glorious days, they make love and drink wine. He returns to his command prepared to lead his people through whatever battles need to be fought. Dorothy, that young peasant girl was me. And that young man was Winston Churchill.
Dorothy: Ma, you made that whole thing up. Now what is your point?
Sophia: That I made it up. It was a little lie that gave me a lot of pleasure. If Rose is happy, and there was no harm done, let her have that.

Sophia: Reminds me of the place I met Charles de Gaulle. We were lovers, you know.
Raymond: Really?
Dorothy: Ma, that's a lie.
Sophia: Who asked you?
Sophia: Picture it: Sicily, 1921. A beautiful young peasant girl saves her lira and takes a trip to Paris, the city of lights, also the only place a guy can wear a cape without getting a lot of funny looks. She wanders into a restaurant and ends up sharing a table with a dashing young Frenchman. They drink, they talk, they burn a cork and draw mustaches on each other.
Raymond: What?
Sophia: Just wanted to see if you were listening. Anyway, the next thing she knows, it's hours later, the place is empty, and the Frenchman's got his schnoz down her blouse. This begins a beautiful love affair. Kids, I was that peasant girl, and the schnoz was Charles the Mole.
Raymond: Charles the Mole?
Sophia: Yeah, Charles the Mole. He was the wheel man for Louie the Ice Pick.
Dorothy: Ma, you said Charles de Gaulle.
Sophia: Yeah, right! I slept with Charles de Gaulle. I could've been the first lady of France, but I married your father instead. A man who cleans his toenails with a shrimp fork.

Blanche: Rose, Ted's coming over later, and I just don't want that dog making a big mess. He's already been into my personal things.
Rose: Well, maybe we should get him some rubber toys.
Blanche: They do seem to be his preference.

Blanche: I just love libraries.
Dorothy: You do?
Blanche: Oh, I've loved books since I was a child. Although I certainly did grow up around some ignorant people. Do you know what horrible thing the folks in my neck of the woods did once when I was a youngun?
Dorothy: You mean besides using phrases like "neck of the woods" and "youngun"?
Blanche: They burned books. The townspeople made a big pile of 'em in front of the library and they threw a torch on top. Only Big Daddy was outraged. He fought his way through that crowd, clawed his way to the top of that pile, grabbed that lit torch and turned to that crowd and said, "What are you people doing? This is lunacy. Ya start a fire from the bottom."

Ted: I don't believe we have to stop seeing each other.
Blanche: Blanche Devereaux never goes out with another woman's husband. Oh, except for that one time. Now, that was not my fault. She was pronounced dead. Those paramedics never give up.