Sophia: Picture it. Sicily, 1912. A beautiful, young peasant girl with clear, olive skin meets an exciting but penniless Spanish artist. There's an instant attraction. They laugh, they sing. They slam down a few boilermakers. Shortly afterwards, he's arrested for showing her how he can hold his palette without using his hands. But I digress. He paints her portrait and they make passionate love. She spends much of the next day in the shower with a loofah sponge, scrubbing his fingerprints off her body. She sees the portrait and is insulted. It looks nothing like her. And she storms out of his life forever. That peasant girl was me and that painter was Pablo Picasso.
Dorothy: Ma, I have a feeling you're lying.
Rose: Be positive, Dorothy.
Dorothy: OK, I'm positive you're lying.

Blanche: Dorothy, what'd they say about the blood test?
Dorothy: Oh, we didn't wait around for the results. I don't need a blood test to tell me who my mother is. A mother is someone who raises you and loves you and is always there for you. I don't need any more proof than that.
Sophia: Me neither. I raised her, and I was the one who got her through that awkward period. The 50 toughest years of my life.

Sophia: I got it, nobody told me. I didn't get it, nobody told me. I figured, "This is life," and went back to my meatballs.

Blanche: Sophia, where are you going?
Sophia: To my room.
Rose: Well, you can't. It could be dangerous!
Sophia: Please, I'm 80. Bathtubs are dangerous!

Sophia: Well, I've got two tickets here for the final night of the Philharmonic, and one of them has your name on it. Here you go, Opus.
Dorothy: I thought you two went last night.
Sophia: I traded those for these. Actually, last night we went to see Dying Young. Terrific. I laughed till I peed. And then I laughed at that.

Rose: I remember the best sex of my whole life.
Dorothy: Was it difficult to get out of the relationship afterwards?
Rose: No, not really. Poor Charlie died in the middle of it.
Blanche: Was that really the best sex you ever had with him?
Rose: Yeah. Oh, there was something wild about him that night. Although I did think it was strange when he started yelling, "Rose, I'm going! I'm going!"
Dorothy: Talk about your mixed emotions.

Blanche: Oh, I'm calling the exterminator!
Rose: Oh, no, don't! A mouse saved my life once. His name was Larry. Larry the mouse. Oh, I loved Larry. He used to walk to school with me every day on a little leash I made out of kite string. Well, one day, we were about to cross the bridge down near the schoolhouse, and Larry stopped dead in his tracks. No matter how I yanked on that leash, he just wouldn't move. Suddenly, I heard this loud noise. The dam upstream had broken, and this rush of water swept the bridge away. Larry saved my life. If it weren't for a mouse just like that little one in the kitchen, I wouldn't be sitting here today, telling you this story.
Dorothy & Sophia: Call the exterminator!

Rose: Oh, speaking at Career Day is quite a responsibility. I still remember Career Day back in St. Olaf.
Sophia: Check, please.
Rose: Gunther Hanchap, St. Olaf's leading shepherd and notary, came to speak. It was so moving when he talked about his solitary existence with the sheep. No human contact for months at a time. Ugh. Just building a special relationship with God's simple creatures. I really wanted to help.
Blanche: So you decided to become a shepherd?
Rose: No. I decided to give Gunther a case of Scotch. And he really appreciated it, until he discovered what mean drunks sheep are. They're kind of like cows when they're drunk. You know what I mean?

Dorothy: I'm gonna do it, Ma. This is my shot. They're taking applications beginning Monday morning. I am going to be the first in line.
Blanche: Make that second.
Dorothy: What are you talking about, Blanche? You've never cared about Jeopardy.
Blanche: No, but I do care for Alex Trebek. You see, I've never had a Canadian who wasn't on skates.
Dorothy: I'm sorry. I didn't know.
Blanche: I have this recurring fantasy. "Take me, Alex. Take me, now," I tell him. And he says to me, "Ah, ah, ah, Blanche. In the form of a question."

Rose: Sophia, wills are no joking matter. Charlie tried to be funny with his and left everything to Henrietta, our prized cow. Well, some lawyer got a hold of the will and represented Henrietta on contingency. There I was presenting my side to a jury of her peers. It took over six months to get the farm back.
Sophia: What a terrible story. I mean it. It's a terrible story. But you must have been relieved when you won.
Rose: Oh, yeah. We celebrated with a big, thick steak.