Sophia: I need your help tonight for a charity.
Dorothy: I'm sorry, honey. I have a date.
Sophia: You call that a date? Thyroid Freddie? His eyes bug right out of his head. He looks like he's being choked.
Dorothy: Now stop it. Freddie is a fine man. You know, When he was younger, he could've been an astronaut, except for, well, you know, that eye thing.

Rose: I have to figure out which of the traditional St. Olaf party games to play at Blanche's party.
Blanche: [gasps] Party? Is that why you've been sneaking around trying to find out my age? A party? I forbid it!
Rose: Blanche, a party is a celebration of life, and it's not just for you, but for your friends who love you.
Blanche: No!
Rose: Stop being so vain. You can't stay 42 forever.
Blanche: Yes, you can if you eat right, exercise regularly and live with women who look a lot older than you.
Dorothy: Tell me, Rose, is "Kill the Bitch" a traditional St. Olaf party game?

Sophia: I've been working for this Meals on Wheels program, and I need a driver. Please?
Dorothy: Oh, all right, Ma. I'll cancel Banjo Eyes.
Sophia: Don't worry. There'll be other dates, Gloria.
Dorothy: Ma, Gloria is my sister. I'm Dorothy.
Sophia: I know. There'll be other dates for Gloria.

Rose: Has anybody seen Blanche? She had a date last night, and this morning her bed's all made and she's not even there.
Sophia: Wait a minute. Here's our walking playground now. Boy, it must be true love. This guy is slowing down to 5 miles an hour.
Blanche: Mornin', everybody.
Dorothy: Blanche, what is going on? That guy's a little young, even for you.
Blanche: What are you talkin' about? He's a mature young man with his own business. Now, who wants to help me pick out five magazines?

Dorothy: You haven't drowned yourself in young men since this time last year, when you brought those twins home from the Jimmy Smits look-alike contest.
Blanche: Oh, yeah, Jorge and Esteban. Romantic, passionate and virtually interchangeable.

Dorothy: You know, Rose is right. Every year at this time you start robbing the cra- Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute. By any chance, does somebody have a birthday coming up?
Blanche: All right, yes, damn it. It's almost my birthday. And I intend to forget all about it. And if you are indeed my friends, you will forget about it, too, and never bring the sordid subject up again.

Sophia: Yeah, I gotta agree with ya, Mrs. Ferguson. Bobby Vinton is the king of rock-'n'-roll.
Dorothy: Ma, it's getting late. Do you have to stay and visit with every one of them?
Sophia: Excuse me for trying to get more involved in their lives.
Dorothy: That's fine, Ma, but did we really have to worm Mrs. Jenkins' dog?

Dorothy: Ma. Ma. He's not old. He's a perfectly healthy young man.
Sophia: Just be home before midnight, Dorothy.
Dorothy: Excuse me, sir.
Jimmy: Go away.
Dorothy: Just a minute. You're not old, you're not ill. You're no slave to fashion. Why are you taking this food?
Jimmy: Well, I'm hungry and I'm on the list. Who do you think you are?
Dorothy: Sergeant Zbornak, Food Police. Now, look, I don't want any trouble. Just hand over that turkey loaf.
Jimmy: No, you can't. I need this food. Except for the carrot-raisin salad. I've never understood carrot-raisin salad.

Dorothy: Uh, look, I don't understand. You're obviously not handicapped.
Jimmy: Oh, I'm just as disabled as anyone here.
Dorothy: I find that very hard to believe.
Jimmy: You don't understand. It's just too hard out there. I haven't been out of this apartment in 22 years.
Dorothy: Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know. Enjoy your dinner.

Blanche: Boy, you're really taking an interest in that man. What happened to him, anyway?
Dorothy: The turmoil of the '60s just got to him.
Blanche: The '60s were an emotional time for all of us. I can still see Big Daddy sitting on the porch swing, swilling down home brew, picking off peaceniks with his BB gun. Oh, God, I miss that man.
Dorothy: Come on, honey. I'm sure Grand Dragon - I mean, uh, Big Daddy is always with you.