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: This is horrible. As Big Daddy used to say, "I'm feeling lower than the rent on a burnin' building."
Rose: That's funny. I used to live in a burning building. And it was cheap. It was Charlie's and my first house. Well, scoff if you must, but it was warm and toasty. I'll never forget Charlie throwing me over his shoulder and dashing across the threshold. Oh, it was a beautiful place. Three bedrooms, two baths. Then two bedrooms and one bath. Eventually, we outgrew the place.

Dorothy: Rose, honey, there's no reason to be upset about Henny Penny. Fairy tales just show kids how complicated life can be, and it does it on their terms.
Blanche: I remember when I first read Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, it had a profound influence on me. Seven lonely men livin' in the woods, needin' a woman. All of 'em with Napoleon complexes, somethin' to prove.
Dorothy: And jobs, Blanche. They all had jobs.
Blanche: In a diamond mine.

Dorothy: We're doing Henny Penny. You know, "Help, help! The sky is falling."
Blanche: Oh, that was never one of my favorites. There's no prince in it. I like a fairy tale with a nice prince in it. A handsome prince with a big ol' codpiece and deep dark eyes and powerful thighs and muscles rippling beneath his tunic.
Dorothy: Blanche, you could get aroused by "Humpty Dumpty."
Blanche: Are you kiddin'? "All the king's horses and all the king's men." Handsome men with deep dark eyes and powerful thighs and muscles and big ol' codpieces.
Dorothy: Blanche, how do you make it through an omelet?