Rose: Oh, good, you're home for the Festival of the Dancing Virgins. The sauce is almost ready.
Dorothy: I'm not staying for dinner tonight. There's a meeting at Mensa. That's the organization for people with high IQs like mine.
Rose: You know, in St. Olaf we had a chapter of Mensa, and across the room was Girlsa. No, wait, those were the bathrooms at St. Olaf's only Italian restaurant.

Sophia: What's with this guy? He must be blind as a bat.
Blanche: There are lots of ways you can trick a man into thinkin' you're younger than you really are. You wear sunglasses, put on a little extra makeup, go to dimly lit restaurants.
Rose: We've all done that.
Blanche: Fly to Nevada to get a fake birth certificate. Have a phony high school yearbook printed up. Change the dates on your parents' graves.
Dorothy: We've all done that.

Rose: We had a Festival of the Dancing Virgins in St. Olaf, too. Every year, we'd go down to the lake, and they'd be flopping around on the dock. Oh, no, wait. That was the Festival of the Dancing Sturgeons.
Dorothy: What is wrong with you, woman?