Rose: If I ever got another chance at a second Mr. Right, I'd want somebody entirely different from Charlie.
Dorothy: But I thought you were crazy about him.
Rose: I was. I am. I mean, we had a wonderful life together. But I'd like somebody really wild. Somebody impulsive, who'd sweep me off my feet. He'd pick me up in his convertible Porsche and whisk me to the airport. We'd fly to his villa in the south of France, where we'd blindfold the orchestra and dance until dawn. And then we'd watch the sun come up over two steaming cups of cocoa.
Sophia: Cocoa?
Rose: With little marshmallows.
Dorothy: Marshmallows? Rose, you trollop.

Sophia: You're lucky you have a choice. My marriage was arranged. I didn't have any choice in the matter.
Dorothy: You mean, you didn't pick Pop?
Sophia: He didn't pick me, either. We learned to love each other, thank God, but it wasn't our idea. There were eight unmarried girls and eight unmarried boys in the village that spring.
Blanche: How'd they decide who went with who?
Sophia: Height. If I hadn't stood on that rock, I'd have ended up with Luigi the pig-boy.

Rose: I've only been to one surprise party in my life, but I'll never forget it. It was for Grandma Nylund's 100th birthday. She was from a whaling village in the old country, so we kind of made that the theme of the party. We all dressed as Vikings, with helmets and spears. And we all crowded into her little room up over the barn, and she walked in and lit a candle. And we yelled, "Surprise!" And she dropped dead right there. We all thought that was such a nice way to go.

Blanche: Oh, that's a great idea! I just love surprise parties. I remember, every year on my birthday, George would take me to the Country Club. And every year, he would say would just have a nice, quiet little dinner. Then we'd walk into the dining room and the lights would go on, and our friends, all from the finest families, would yell, "Surprise!" And every year I'd pretend to be surprised. It always made George so happy.
Dorothy: Good Lord, how could you fake it every year?
Blanche: Well, Dorothy, when we were first married, I faked it three times a week. That always made George happy, too.

Blanche: I know what I'm talking about because I was in a very similar situation once. He was a man of the cloth. Totally dedicated to his vocation or so he said, but his eyes told me he was dedicated to me. We both knew it was wrong and we fought our feelings with every bone in our hot, longing, writhing bodies. Finally, it was just too much for us and we gave up and checked into a Best Western.
Dorothy: You had an affair with a priest?
Blanche: Priest? I didn't say he was a priest. I said he was "a man of the cloth". He was a fabric salesman. You know, we never made love again after that, but he did cover my La-Z-Boy for free.

Rose: What are you doing?
Blanche: I am contouring my eyebrows. I use Miss Christie Brinkley as a guide 'cause we have the exactly same bone structure. I just hope she doesn't go to pot after that baby comes. I don't want that big-eyed husband of hers coming after me.
Rose: I never do very much with my eyebrows.
Blanche: That's why, from the nose up, you look like Wilfred Brimley.

Dorothy: Fine. But if she's gonna stay another couple of days, we'd better get more diapers and food.
Rose: I'm thawing some pork chops.
Blanche: Honey, she only has two teeth. How is she supposed to eat a pork chop?
Rose: My Uncle Lester only had one tooth, and he could eat corn on the cob. Of course, he didn't get a lot of it into his mouth. So they'd cream what fell on his pants, and he'd eat it later.

Rose: Being abandoned is the worst. I know. I was almost abandoned.
Dorothy: Almost?
Rose: I was nine. It was the last night of the Deep-Root Vegetable Carnival, and I was having the greatest time. Eating candied turnips and guessing how many sweet potatoes were in the glass jar. Bobbing for yams. I had a knack of always coming up with the firmest, most appealing yams.
Blanche: I was once told I had the firmest, most appealing gams.
Dorothy: Blanche, try and stay with us.
Rose: Anyway, the last time I surfaced, clutching a humdinger of a yam between my teeth, my parents were gone. Frantically, I searched the carnival grounds. I was convinced I'd spend the rest of my days with the bearded lady as my foster mother, and the man who hoses down the elephants as my dad. Anyway, I was lost. And scared. But then I did what generations before me had done. I gazed up into that dark night sky and found the bright star that could guide me home.
Dorothy: The North Star.
Rose: Actually, it was the Texaco star. From a service station across the street. Our farm was just down the road from it.
Dorothy: Rose, honey, have you been washing the fruit off before you eat it?

Blanche: Oh, that man is slime.
Dorothy: Pond scum.
Rose: Flugenachen.
Dorothy: What?
Rose: Flugenachen. It's Scandinavian for someone who docks his boat in a handicapped slip.

Blanche: Aw. Well, my sister Charmaine was insanely jealous of me from the time I was a gorgeous little infant. See, she was one year ahead of me in school and we used to compete for everything. But there was one thing that Charmaine did excel at, cheerleading. Not only could she twirl that baton like a propeller, but she knew every cheer in the county. And she could twist her body into the shape of a letter R. Well, finally Charmaine decided it was her turn in the spotlight, so she challenged me to compete against her for captain of the cheerleading squad. When the day came, we had to perform in front of the entire school, and Charmaine was fantastic. She twirled those batons so fast, she looked like a DC3 coming in for a landing. Then it was my turn. So I did some cartwheels and only fell once. I did a handstand and almost got my balance. And I only dropped my baton four times. And when I was finished, I was unanimously voted captain of the cheerleading squad.
Dorothy: Blanche, how was that possible?
Blanche: Underneath my regulation uniform, I was wearing little, black French lace panties. Bearing the words "bonjour". Or was it "bon appétit"? I don't remember. Anyway, it was something in French. I guess, nobody minded that I couldn't do a handstand, but they surely did appreciate me trying.
Dorothy: Then I don't understand. Blanche, just once, why couldn't you let your sister win?
Blanche: I told you. Jealousy is a terrible thing. That'll teach Charmaine to be Daddy's favorite.