Sophia: Dorothy, let me tell you a story. Picture it. Sicily, 1922. A young military officer stationed far from home. He wanders the streets seeking a friendly face and a glass of Chianti. Finally, he happens into a dusty little cafe where he finds both. The man laughs for the first time in months. And finds inspiration in a beautiful peasant girl, wise beyond her years. When the cafe is closed, she takes him home with her. Three glorious days, they make love and drink wine. He returns to his command prepared to lead his people through whatever battles need to be fought. Dorothy, that young peasant girl was me. And that young man was Winston Churchill.
Dorothy: Ma, you made that whole thing up. Now what is your point?
Sophia: That I made it up. It was a little lie that gave me a lot of pleasure. If Rose is happy, and there was no harm done, let her have that.

Sophia: He looks pretty dead to me.
Dorothy: All right, Ma, give me your mirror.
Rose: What for?
Dorothy: Every morning I hold it under Ma's nose. If it fogs up, I start the coffee.

Blanche: Why did George cheat on me?
Rose: Why does any man cheat?
Dorothy: Well, there are two popular theories. One, men are victims of an evolutionary process which genetically programs their sexual habits.
Blanche: What's the other theory?
Dorothy: Men are scum.

Blanche: Oh, you just look so beautiful. You know, this reminds me of the day I married George. Oh, it was an exquisite wedding. 500 people in that big, old church and I didn't have any underwear on.
Dorothy: Why?
Blanche: I just felt it was the right thing to do.

Blanche: Hey! Wait a minute. Are you saying this should be me and not you?
Rose: No. No, I'm just saying that I am a good person. Hell, I'm a goody two shoes.
Blanche: AIDS is not a bad person's disease, Rose. It is not God punishing people for their sins.
Rose: You're right, Blanche.

Sophia: Reminds me of the place I met Charles de Gaulle. We were lovers, you know.
Raymond: Really?
Dorothy: Ma, that's a lie.
Sophia: Who asked you?
Sophia: Picture it: Sicily, 1921. A beautiful young peasant girl saves her lira and takes a trip to Paris, the city of lights, also the only place a guy can wear a cape without getting a lot of funny looks. She wanders into a restaurant and ends up sharing a table with a dashing young Frenchman. They drink, they talk, they burn a cork and draw mustaches on each other.
Raymond: What?
Sophia: Just wanted to see if you were listening. Anyway, the next thing she knows, it's hours later, the place is empty, and the Frenchman's got his schnoz down her blouse. This begins a beautiful love affair. Kids, I was that peasant girl, and the schnoz was Charles the Mole.
Raymond: Charles the Mole?
Sophia: Yeah, Charles the Mole. He was the wheel man for Louie the Ice Pick.
Dorothy: Ma, you said Charles de Gaulle.
Sophia: Yeah, right! I slept with Charles de Gaulle. I could've been the first lady of France, but I married your father instead. A man who cleans his toenails with a shrimp fork.

Sophia: Don't panic, I'm fine. I haven't had that much. Besides, you think I'd ruin Roberta's milestone birthday?
Rose: Milestone? She's 88.
Sophia: Right. After 80, every year without a headstone is a milestone.

Sophia: So that's why you're acting like it's the first day of school. Mr. Gordon is coming over. [kissing sounds]
Dorothy: Mother, just stop that. Mr. Gordon is probably over 70 by now. He's practically ancient.
Sophia: Seventy is ancient? If I met a man that age who looked halfway decent, I'd be on my back before you could say, "I've fallen and I can't get up."

Blanche: Now, I'm serious. You have got to get rid of that woman. Look, she just bosses us all around, won't let us have any fun, make any noise. She's makin' our lives miserable.
Dorothy: I don't like her any more than you do, but what can I do? Ma's ankles haven't healed yet. And besides, Nurse DeFarge means well.
Blanche: Dorothy, at 2:00 a.m. this morning, I was entertaining a gentleman caller when she opened the door at the most inopportune time. I could have lost my balance and chipped a tooth.

[flashback:]
Dorothy: You know, until I met you, Rose, I didn't know that people actually talk back to their Rice Krispies.