Rose: Well, sometimes people need help making decisions. That's the way it was with Thor, our pet lamb. From the time he was first separated from his mother, he wouldn't eat, he wouldn't sleep, he wouldn't frolic with the other sheep.
Dorothy: You're slipping into verse, Rose. Keep it simple.
Rose: Daddy got the idea of taking this old inner tube, wrapping it in wool and putting it next to Thor's bed at night. We named it Brun Hilda. And believe it or not, it did the trick. Thor felt like he was back with his mother and he began eating and sleeping...
Dorothy & Blanche: And frolicking.
Rose: Yes. But then one day, Thor got a little playful and accidentally bit Brun Hilda. The poor little guy just stood there, watching his mother deflate before his very eyes. He was never the same after that. Oh sure, once in a while he'd "baa" at the back tires of a parked car. But for the most part, he just kind of kept to himself.

Dorothy: Blanche, I'm sorry, but I think I have to stay and talk to Stan. I'm sure you can get somebody.
Blanche: Dorothy, I must confess I have mixed feelings about calling anybody. There's something strangely provocative about this evening. Oh, of course, I would never have a relationship with both twins at the same time. That would be obscene. Unless, of course, it was tastefully done.

Rose: I wish I could, but I'm driving the bookmobile for the Grief Center tonight.
Dorothy: Oh, I thought you do that that during the day?
Rose: I usually do, but I got tied up at work and I didn't have time and now I feel so guilty. There are so many depressed people with nothing to read. Of course, when I'm depressed, I can't read. I knit. Maybe I should drive a knitmobile.
Sophia: Maybe she should drive a nitwitmobile.

Dorothy: Ma, this is serious surgery.
Sophia: Surgery is the easy part. The tough part is after. Who's going to take care of you?
Stan: I don't know. I haven't thought about that.
Sophia: Well, think about it. You live alone and no one likes you.

Blanche: Mmm, I remember the first time anybody ever called me a widow. I was terribly Ionely and depressed, just missing George something awful. Finally, my best friend, Rebecca-Sue Bliss, persuaded me to join her for a night out. Well, we no sooner stepped through the door into the Boots And Saddle Grill than these two big, brawny truckers came over and offered us a drink. That is, until one of the truckers noticed my wedding band. Well, I was so stunned I couldn't speak. But Becky-Sue spoke right up, she said, "That's alright, she's a widow."
Rose: Blanche, you poor baby.
Blanche: I know. In fact, the next time I decided to party when George was out of town on business, I left that wedding ring at home.
Dorothy: Blanche, you were unfaithful to George?
Blanche: Oh, of course not, I was only flirting. There's nothing wrong with that. It keeps you healthy, keeps you in shape. Keeps your buttocks firm.
Dorothy: And I wasted all that time on jazzercise.

Rose: I have to confess, I hate being called a widow. It sounds so permanent and final and I don't believe for one minute that it is. I know someday Charlie and I are going to be together again. Probably not in the old house. We don't need that much room. I mean, the kids are grown and we'll both be dead.

Rose: Stan, I'm gonna kill you. Do you know what this is?
Stan: Uh, yeah, it's a plate I dropped. I was gonna pick it up later.
Rose: This is not just a plate, mister. This is a family heirloom. It's Great-Great-Grandma Nylund's ceremonial wedding plate.
Blanche: Wedding plate?
Rose: Yes. The bride's family fills the plate with fruit and then at the wedding all the guests eat from it. And when the last piece is gone, that's when the bride and groom leave to start their wedding night, which takes place in a tent. Or a Best Western.
Blanche: A Best Western?
Rose: Oh, the Vikings have always been a very progressive people. Anyway, that's when it's time for the husband to symbolically offer himself to his new bride. On the plate.
Stan: Yuck. I ate a tuna sandwich on that plate this afternoon.
Rose: Stan, I'm never going to forgive you for this. My niece is getting married in the spring. What's her husband going to do?
Blanche: Well, I bet a gravy boat would work in a pinch.

Blanche: Dorothy, this is Rob and this is his brother, Bob.
Dorothy: I swear I have seen you somewhere before. Oh, there you are. [laughing] That's a joke. You see, Blanche didn't mention that you were twins.
Blanche: Well, I never met Bob until tonight.
Rob: Blanche, I told you we were exactly alike.
Blanche: Dorothy, you'll be thanking me for years to come.

Stan: Sophia's got a point. What am I gonna do?
Dorothy: Look, Stan, Ma's right. You're going to come here to recover. You can have my room. I'll move in with Ma until you're feeling better.
Stan: Sophia, Dorothy, you're the greatest. I don't know what to say.
Sophia: Is it just your heart that's clogged or your ears too? Let me start again. A half a pound of lox, a dozen bagels, assorted, no poppy, two prune Danish, six sour pickles and a container of cream cheese.

Dorothy: Ma, where were you? We've been worried.
Sophia: You know who's in this hospital? Rochelle Devito. She slipped in the shower, broke her hip, fell through the shower doors, hit her head against the sink, got a concussion and swallowed her dentures. To hear her complaining, you'd think no one else had problems. I took some of her cookies. You hungry?