Rose: We're almost through with our half of the list.
Sophia: Rose, tomorrow I want to double the number of sandwiches. Grab some of that aluminium foil.
Blanche: Are you two still gonna sell lunches after that Johnny No-Thumbs leaned on you again?
Rose: He didn't lean on us, Blanche. He said he had friends who would lean on us.
Sophia: Well, I got friends, too. One phone call to Palermo and Johnny's lunch wagon will be wearing concrete tires.
Dorothy: Ma, come on, the only person you know in Palermo is Uncle Vito and he's a harmless old man.
Sophia: Harmless? Give him some piano wire, make fun of his limp and see what happens.

Sophia: Okay. Here's what I figure your take would be for the first month. So what do you say? Are we partners or what?
Rose: Making extra money appeals to me but why the sandwich business?
Sophia: Because we don't have enough counter space to make kidney machines.

Dorothy: Okay, how do I look?
Sophia: The outfit's nice. Now go put some make-up on.
Dorothy: Ma, I'm wearing make-up.
Sophia: Make sure you eat by candlelight.

Blanche: Dorothy, guess who's here?
Dorothy: My date.
Blanche: Your husband.
Dorothy: I don't have a husband. Call the police.
Stan: Your ex-husband.
Dorothy: I'll call the police.

Blanche: Dorothy, in the future I would appreciate advance notice when you're expecting a gentleman. This time it's only Stan but next time it could be somebody appealing or charming or at least reasonably good-Iooking. No offence, Stan.

Stan: Dorothy, could we talk for a minute?
Dorothy: Of course. But only for a minute. Come on.
Sophia: You bring your wife with you or did you make her stay home and clean her toy box?
Dorothy: Ma, don't you remember? I told you Stan and Chrissie got a divorce.
Sophia: I thought you said Stan and Chrissie got a horse. I'm 80. You gotta enunciate. Don't get me wrong. Horse, divorce, I could care less. I just hate being left with egg on my face.

Dorothy: Alright, Stan, what's wrong?
Stan: What makes you think something's wrong?
Dorothy: Oh, please, Stan. We were married for 38 years. You can disguise your bald head but you can't hide your emotions.

Dorothy: Now, what's wrong?
Stan: [sobbing] I lost it, Dorothy.
Dorothy: You never had it, Stanley.
Stan: The business. I don't know what I'm gonna do. Twenty-two years of sweat and blood and suddenly it's all flushed down the toilet like a snotty ball of Kleenex.
Dorothy: You could always write poetry for a living.

Dorothy: Hey, what are you two doing up? It's after midnight.
Rose: Sophia and I are going into business.
Dorothy: How did she talk you into this, Rose?
Rose: Oh, Sophia didn't talk me into it. As she said, if I had half a brain, I'd have thought of it myself.

Rose: Besides, it'll be fun, Dorothy. Just like when I was little and sold Belgian waffles alongside the road.
Dorothy: You had a Belgian waffle stand?
Rose: Well, actually they were English muffins that I carved little ridges in. But people bought 'em anyway. I was cute then so I could get away with it.
Sophia: Don't worry, you get cute again when you hit 80. How do you think I'm going to peddle this slop?