Blanche: Well, I am Blanche Devereaux, nee Hollingsworth, of Atlanta, daughter of Curtis Hollingsworth and Samantha Roquet of Augusta and Shreveport, daughter of- I can't do it. I- Daughter of Feldman. I'm a Feldman, damn it. Of Buffalo. [all gasp] Oh, ladies, now, please, I beg of you. Let us put aside our ancient prejudices and change these rules. Oh, ladies, let my people in.

Blanche: Oh, Dorothy, good, I'm glad you're here. I want you to help me go through these papers I sent for. They're to authenticate my family tree.
Dorothy: Oh.
Blanche: Well, tomorrow I have to present it out loud at the "Daughters of the Old South" initiation banquet.
Dorothy: Oh, Blanche, you're not really gonna go through with this, are you?
Blanche: Well, indeed I am. This club is a link to the proudest of all heritages. I remember, growin' up in Atlanta, how all of us girls used to pretend to be Confederate belles, and we'd receive gentleman callers. Got to be like a competition. In fact, I once received seven callers in one evening.
Dorothy: I'm just thinking out loud, but isn't Atlanta where the Center for Disease Control is?
Blanche: Coincidence.

Dorothy: Oh, honey, I hope you're not too upset about not fitting in with those dreadful people today.
Blanche: Those small-minded peckerwoods aren't real Southerners. I am a real Southerner. Real Southerners are compassionate people. They're wise and gentle, and they sit around on porch swings, regaling with stories of Abraham and Moses and all the other people who worked on the plantation.