Stan: Chrissy's back in Maui. I just came to sell a piece of property that Dorothy and I bought when we were in Miami on our honeymoon. Just sign on the last page.
Sophia: Read it first. The last time he had you sign something, I ended up in a home.

Stan: You sure all you want is coffee? The corned beef here is really primo.
Dorothy: No. I didn't even want the coffee. You were the one who said it'd be rude if I didn't join you. Besides, I thought the little woman had you eating things like sprouts and roots and those green things that grow under boats.
Stan: Let's not talk about Chrissy.
Dorothy: Oh, come on. We've had a bitter divorce that time has softened into a hostile relationship. I mean, face it, our topics of conversation are limited.
Stan: Come on. We just sold a piece of property that we bought on our honeymoon. Don't you feel a little sentimental?
Dorothy: No.
Stan: Come on, what do you say we take a drive and take one last look at it?
Dorothy: Oh, two hours in a car with my ex-husband, looking at a piece of swampland that I don't even own anymore... Oh, Stan, you really know how to show a girl a good time.

Dorothy: When did it happen?
Stan: Ah, a couple of months ago. She told me she thought we were no longer sexually compatible. Well, she didn't say it exactly in those words.
Dorothy: Of course not. Those words have more than one syllable.

Stan: Are you sure you don't want to go take a ride and look at our swamp?
Dorothy: Oh, why not? I mean, the day's shot anyway.
Stan: Great. And after, I can take you to dinner. How about that seafood place near the Fontainebleau where we were on our honeymoon?
Dorothy: Sure, why not?
Stan: If memory serves me correctly, the last time, we excused ourselves before the main course and rushed back to the hotel.
Dorothy: Mmm. If memory serves me, we rushed back to the hotel because you had the runs from that cheap lunch you bought us.

Blanche: I don't care what Dorothy says, I'm not spending my vacation in New York.
Rose: It might be interesting. I've never been to New York.
Sophia: You haven't, Rose? I'm shocked, you're so cosmopolitan!
Blanche: Well, take it from me, you're not missing a thing. The people are rude, the streets are full of criminals, everything's overpriced. I don't know why Frank Sinatra sings about it. New Yorkers are all sickos.
Rose: We could go to Hollywood.
Sophia: Sure, good choice. No sickos there!

Blanche: Sophia, please. We're trying to make a very difficult decision here.
Sophia: Oh, excuse me! Not only am I not allowed to go, I'm not allowed to talk about it! This is the same deal Cinderella had with her stepsisters!

Rose: I've always wanted to go to Hollywood. When I was a young girl, I used to dream about becoming a movie star. Mr. Mason, who owned the corner drugstore, said I was a young Barbara Billingsley. So when I turned 17, I told my father that I wanted to take acting lessons.
Blanche: What did he say?
Rose: No.
Blanche: Great story, Rose.

Dorothy: OK, I know what it looks like. And frankly, that's exactly what it is.
Sophia: You had to bring him home? You couldn't find a drunken sailor on a street corner?
Rose: We're a little surprised, that's all.
Dorothy: You're not alone. I mean, it was the last thing in the world I expected. I met him, we went to sign the papers, we had lunch, he told me his wife left him.
Blanche: And you believed him? That is the oldest line in the book. I hear that at least twice a week!
Sophia: And it works every time.
Blanche: I said it was old. I didn't say it doesn't work.

Dorothy: No, believe me, Chrissy left him. He was devastated. Next thing I knew, I was holding him, he was crying, we were in bed. It was just as it always had been.
Rose: Well, I'm shocked.
Dorothy: I was too. You know, Chrissy didn't teach him a thing.

Rose: Dorothy, we're gonna talk to the travel agent about Hollywood. Do you want to come with us?
Dorothy: No, look, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to spend my vacation sitting in a tour bus, looking at houses that may or may not belong to Lucille Ball.