Rose: Therapy's a wonderful idea. Oh, I remember St. Olaf's most famous psychotherapists, the Freud brothers, Sigmund and Roy. You may have read their bestseller, "If I Have All the Cheese I Want, Why Am I Still Unhappy?"

Blanche: [groans] [moans] Oh, my, my, my, my, my!
Dorothy: Why do I feel the need to bathe?
Rose: So, how was it, Blanche?
Blanche: Oh, you might as well ask me to describe the glory of the Great Smoky Mountains as they rise from the mist of a Carolina dawn.
Dorothy: They went to a sleazy motel.
Blanche: Or the colors of the monarch butterfly, spreading its wings as it emerges from the miracle of the cocoon.
Dorothy: She got him to pay for half the room.
Blanche: Or the sturdy cypress reaching heavenward, tall and mighty and proud!
Dorothy: That one I think is pretty self-explanatory.

Dorothy: Blanche, honey, you okay?
Blanche: Oh, why do these things keep happenin' to me? And why do I let them keep happenin'? I'm just tired of gettin' all dressed up, lookin' gorgeous, going out, only to lose out in the end. On the other hand, I am dressed up, and I do look gorgeous, and it is gringo night at Hernando's Hacienda. Oh, but I don't think I ought to go. I'm just so vulnerable. Does anyone know how to say vulnerable in Spanish? Oh, never mind, I'll say it with my eyes. Adios. [exits]
Sophia: I said it before, and I'll say it again. Sluts just heal quicker.