Rose: Dorothy, you crossed your legs. You lose another sticker.
Dorothy: Oh, Rose. Rose, these games of yours are absolutely ridiculous. I mean, I can't think of anyone with enough control to keep her legs apart all the time.
Blanche: [enters, wearing a dress positively bedeviled with stickers] More chips?

Police Officer: Sorry to interrupt. I got a call from a Mrs. Rose Nylund. The woman inside said you'd be here.
Blanche: My God. You are just perfect! Now look, that is her right there. She doesn't suspect a thing. You got your handcuffs?
Police Officer: Well, yes.
Blanche: OK, great. Now look, when I give you one of these- [slaps his behind]
Police Officer: Hiya!
Blanche: You go into your dance. You got it?
Police Officer: Listen, I think there's been a mistake-
Blanche: Oh, my goodness, everybody, just look who's here! [a well-toned man in a skimpy police uniform arrives] Why, we must have the music up too loud. I'll turn it down. There's your criminal. Prosecute her to the utmost of the law!
Dorothy: Blanche!
Rose: Oh, can you believe this? The stripper's here and we're missing it, all because of these stupid blindfolds!
Blanche: OK, Furillo, drop your pants. It's time for a little search and seizure.
Police Officer: Touch me again and you'll go to prison, lady!
Blanche: Honk, honk! Blanche!
Dorothy: Blanche, we have company. [points to the sparsely dressed "police officer"]
Blanche: This means you're a real cop?
Police Officer: Yes, ma'am.
Blanche: The name is Devereaux. Blanche Devereaux. Whoo!

Blanche: Maybe you ought to take a different approach with her. You know, a more traditional one.
Dorothy: Like?
Blanche: Ah, I don't know. Like, um... Set up a meeting and have Stan ask for your hand. In an Italian sort of way.
Dorothy: Well, what do you want me to do? Go in, bow my head and kiss her ring? Hey, you know something? That just might work. I mean, she thinks of herself as the Godfather. I'll just make her an offer that she can't remember.

Stan: Sophia, thank you for coming. I want you to know how grateful we are that you are seeing us at this time.
Sophia: Did I sit down? Have I sat down yet?
Stan: I'm sorry.
Sophia: No, I mean, am I this short? My God, you two are like a couple of redwoods.

Rose: That's settled. Now let's get a move on.
Blanche: Where you going?
Rose: To get the toilet paper for the Westons' house. But remember, we have to be really quiet. Dreyfuss will bark at anything, and Barbara carries a gun.
Dorothy: Oh, what the hell.

Blanche: I am talking about your date, Rose. Who is this secret man you're seeing?
Rose: Oh, it's not a secret. His name's Ray. He's a friend of Miles'.
Blanche: You are dating a friend of Miles'? You scallywag!
Sophia: You skunkweed!
Blanche: What's that mean?
Sophia: I don't know. What does yours mean?

Rose: [on the phone] I understand, dear, but we're not dating.
Blanche: Is that the woman who threatened you with the lobster? Why are you talking to her?
Rose: She keeps calling. What should I do?
Blanche: I'll get you off that phone. [loudly] Rose, I've fallen and can't get up. Help me!
Rose: I can't help you right now. I'm on the phone.

Stan: Anyway, Sophia, it occurred to me that I never actually asked your permission to marry your daughter, and well, I guess in asking her hand, I'm also asking your hand. So, what do you say? Will you be my mother-in-law?
Sophia: Marrying us both, eh? So, uh, I suppose one could say six years ago you left us both. Of course, that was after you spent the entire marriage cheating on us both. The only difference is, you haven't been forgiven by us both. So the answer is no. I don't trust you, Stan. And where there is no trust, there is no family. You marry this man and we're no longer family. You do this, you are out of my life forever.

Rose: Girls, Ray and I aren't dating. Miles is in Europe with some students, and I needed an escort for the Children's Hospital fund-raiser. Miles suggested I take Ray. As a friend, that's all.
Blanche: Well, then you're missing a prime opportunity. Dating a boyfriend's friend is exciting. Take it from me. I wrote the book on dating.
Rose: Really? What's it called?
Blanche: It doesn't have a title, you twit.
Dorothy: Hi- Oh, sorry. Well, good night.
Blanche: Oh, you going to bed already?
Dorothy: Well, what's so terrible about going right to bed?
Rose: Hey, Blanche, that's a great title for your book!

Dorothy: Oh, Blanche, favor?
Blanche: Oh, Dorothy, come on. This has been going on for months now. "I have a date with Stan. Can I borrow your bike?"
Dorothy: He can't pick me up or my mother'll hear the car. You think I'm proud of this?
Blanche: Go on, honey, take the bike.
Dorothy: Thank you.
Rose: Dorothy?
Dorothy: I'm just going around the block.
Rose: Dorothy!
Dorothy: Oh, God. [takes helmet out of a cupboard] I hate what this does to my hair.