Rose: Well, I can't use this.
Dorothy: She's right. This violates the privacy of her relationship, and I think you should take it back.
Blanche: You're just trying to make that old stupid sweatshirt of yours look better. Besides I can't take it back.
I paid in advance.
Rose: Can't you get a refund?
Blanche: Well, no. I paid with nature's credit card.
Dorothy: You never leave home without it.

Blanche: Dorothy, if you're really so worried about this, well, I'll just let Rose open yours first so you won't be embarrassed.
Dorothy: You know, your ego is so fragile you have to turn everything into a popularity contest. Well, I have news for you. Today your worst nightmare happens. Today I make you look bad.
Blanche: You hate me 'cause I'm beautiful, don't you?
Dorothy: There's a man leaving in 10 minutes. Be under him.

Dorothy: Rose, what's the problem?
Rose: Oh, Blanche thinks I should go to the hospital tomorrow. Well, if Miles didn't tell me about the surgery, doesn't that mean he doesn't want me there?
Blanche: Excuse me, Rose, you're about to make a grave mistake. You come to me if you want advice on men. You go to Dorothy if there's grammar you want help with.
Dorothy: You ended that sentence with a preposition just to bait me.
Blanche: What would I do that for?

Dorothy: Go ahead, Blanche.
Blanche: No, the mood has been ruined. Suffice it to say, it involved a men's club, a vine rope, and a large bottle of Absorbine Jr.
Dorothy: Blanche, how could you possibly think that this would help Rose decide what to do about Miles being ill in the hospital?
Rose: Oh, Blanche, God bless you. I see it all so clearly now. I don't care what Miles does, I'm going to be at that hospital tomorrow.
Blanche: And she still hasn't worn your sweatshirt.

Miles: Rose, sweetheart, you don't understand. I'm- I'm here for cosmetic surgery.
Rose: Cosmetic surgery? Why?
Miles: Because I look old, Rose. Do you have any idea what it's like working on a college campus?
Rose: Well, I've never worked on one, but I was the subject of a lab experiment once.
Miles: Wait a minute, you never told me that.
Rose: They doubled my IQ. For three days, I was another Einstein. Then they pulled out the IV.
Miles: What was in that IV?
Rose: Smart juice, I guess.

Sophia: Dorothy, I can't breathe!
Dorothy: Not now, Ma. Okay, but this better be good.
Sophia: I don't know. How good would you consider the Pope's ring?
Dorothy: Okay, Ma, squirt me in the eye and get it over with.

Blanche: Look, I know how to settle this. Let me tell you a story of the steamy South. A tale of deception and tragedy.
Sophia: Just a second, Uncle Remus.

Rose: Of course it's serious. If it was minor, he would have told me about it. That's why he's been living for the day. He's afraid there won't be a tomorrow.
Sophia: This may not be a good time, but has anyone seen a large, jewel-encrusted ring that's steeped in history just lying around lately?

Rose: Well, if it's important to you, I'll support you. But why didn't you tell me about it earlier?
Miles: Well, for the same reason that those formulas that dye hair do it gradually. I mean, it's the kind of thing you want people to notice, but not to be able to pinpoint.
Rose: I didn't know you dyed your hair.
Miles: Rose, my hair is gray. It's been gray since we met.
Rose: Boy, that is gradual.

Sophia: Coming through. The Pope's in town and I've got a bus to catch. Let's see, I've got my binoculars, my lucky rosary... Uh-oh, I forgot my whoopee cushion. Ah, who am I kidding? Everyone on that bus will be over 80. It'd be like getting a dog to bark in a kennel.