Trending The Golden Girls Quotes
Dorothy: Look, could we get back to lining the shelves?
Blanche: I don't feel like it anymore.
Rose: What do you wanna do instead?
Blanche: I know. Let's rent an adult video, drink mimosas and French-kiss the pillows.
Rose: [answering phone] Hello. Oh, Helgie. So what's going on in St. Olaf? I can't understand ya, honey. Are you moaning? No. Say it slowly. Oh, God, it's raining. Oh, God, it's raining. Oh, God... Oh, God, it's raining! Here, I've gotta get to Miles.
Blanche: [listening to phone] Boy, it must be pouring.
Rose: It was back in 1955 and we had just moved into our first house, right next door to Pigpen Johannsen. That wasn't his real name. That was a nickname.
Rose: No, Johannsen. Anyway, Pigpen had just turned 80 and the town bylaws made him leave his job teaching drivers training at the high school.
Dorothy: Well, at 80 it was about time.
Rose: Oh, it had nothing to do with his age. There was an old law on the books about driving with your shirt off.
Blanche: I once got arrested for that in Chattanooga, too.
Dorothy: Blanche, let me ask you a question. Are you allowed to go back to Chattanooga?
Blanche: Are you kidding? The sheriff still writes.
Blanche: Oh, Sophia. Honey, I want to wish you all the happiness in the world.
Sophia: Oh, thank you, Blanche.
Rose: And Sophia, I want to offer you a traditional Scandinavian wedding blessing. Keflectoflafen flafenflurfen.
Sophia: I'm really touched. I'm also soaking wet.
Rose: Gee, I love to bake. Back in St. Olaf, I always baked our birthday cakes. Charlie loved 'em. I remember the last cake I baked in St. Olaf. It was kinda different.
[flashback: In St. Olaf, Rose places a birthday cake she just prepared on the kitchen table, lights it and then leaves the room. She then returns.]
Rose: [talking to herself] Oh, my birthday! I completely forgot! Well, I'd better make a wish and blow out those candles before Mr. Hickenlooper has the volunteer fire brigade up here pumping water on my clean kitchen floor. I swear, that man will look for any excuse to make that siren sound through his nose. [light snort] Inga Lundqvist told me just this last week I know. Shut up, Rose, and blow out your candles. OK. A wish. I guess that was kind of a silly wish. I know you can't really be here with me, Charlie. It's taken me these past eight months to accept that, but I finally have. Then why our usual little private birthday celebration? It somehow feels less Ionely, Charlie. I mean, this is the first special day I've had to spend without you. If it had been Christmas, I'd probably have hung your stocking. Or if it had been your birthday, I probably would have still asked the clerk down at Tuttles to help me pick out a tie for you. Oh, I bet that would have gotten me some strange looks from the sales staff. Although they already look at me strangely. Because of the time I tried to special-order a double-breasted navy suit with a drop-seat in the pants for cousin Wendell. Anyway, that was part of the reason. The other part was I wanted to talk to you. I know. I didn't need a special occasion for that. It would be more of an occasion if I stopped talking. But I I figured since it was my birthday, you wouldn't be upset when you hear what I've got to tell you. I've decided to sell the house and leave St. Olaf, Charlie. The winters are rough here in Minnesota. And this place is too filled with memories to let me get on with my life. I need to start over without you, Charlie. And I think this is the best way. I know it'll be tough in a strange town all alone. But I've read some wonderful things about Miami. It won't be long before I meet nice people and make some new friends. I have a real good feeling about that. So I just wanted you to know what I decided. I hope to be in Florida before the next winter comes. But I know that wherever I am, you'll be right there with me. I love you, Charlie. I miss you. It's my birthday!
[Rose blows out the candles]
You know the rules. I get the rose.
Rose: Wait a minute. If you didn't sleep with any of the men in these journals, then how come it says "Bed" on the cover?
Blanche: [laughs] Oh, that doesn't say "Bed".
Rose: Right there, it does.
Blanche: Oh, silly, those are my initials. Blanche Elizabeth Devereaux.
Dorothy: Your initials spell "Bed"?
Dorothy: And I was feeling jealous and Ionely and... God knows what else.
Dorothy: Excuse me?
Blanche: Magenta. That's what I call it when I get that way. All kinds of feelings tumbling all over themselves. Well, you know, you're not quite blue because you're not really sad and although you're a little jealous, you wouldn't say you're green with envy, and every now and then you realize you're kinda scared but you'd hardly call yourself yellow. I hate that feeling. I just hate it. And I hate the color magenta. That's why I named it that. Magenta. No way to really explain it but, fortunately, between friends, you don't have to.
Blanche: Dorothy, guess who's here?
Dorothy: My date.
Blanche: Your husband.
Dorothy: I don't have a husband. Call the police.
Stan: Your ex-husband.
Dorothy: I'll call the police.
Blanche: You know, Sophia, this birthday thing kinda has me depressed as well. You think you could help me, too?
Sophia: Sure. No matter how bad things get, remember these sage words - you're old, you sag, get over it.
Sophia: So what if you knew Jesus personally? Wake up and smell the coffee, you fossil.
Dorothy: Well, since Blanche is having dinner with Jamie, we have a very important decision to make.
Rose: How about pizza?
Dorothy: Sounds great.
Rose: Should we go healthy and get whole-wheat crusts and low-fat cheese?
Dorothy: Why don't we go really high-fiber and spread ketchup on cardboard? Pizza, dammit! Get pizza.
Laszlo: I wanted to say that I would rather not decide at all.
Blanche: Oh, but, Laszlo, you've got to. It's the only way. Otherwise, it'll just end up coming between the three of us. So now tell us, which one of us is it gonna be? Dorothy here, or Rose, or a woman whose breasts you once described as "perfect champagne glass-sized orbs of dancing loveliness"?
Laszlo: Blanche, I did not say that.
Blanche: Well, you agreed when I said it.
Rose: You know, I'm not so sure sperm can't live outside the body. Back during World War II, my best friend Claire Osterhaus's husband was in the army and stationed in France. Well, five months after he left St. Olaf, she got pregnant. A lot of people thought she was fooling around, but she told me that sperm must have swum from Normandy. Across the Atlantic, up the St. Lawrence Seaway, into the Great Lakes and then over to Minnesota.
Blanche: And what did you think, Rose?
Rose: Well, I know those little guys are supposed to be good swimmers but I think it had to come over by mail.
Blanche: Big Daddy, let me look at you.
Big Daddy: Let me look at you. You're still as pretty as a ladybug sunning itself on a lily pad on a misty spring day south of Savannah.
Dorothy: Could you be more specific, Big Daddy?
Blanche: Oh, isn't she something! I'm really proud of her. Now, if I could just manage to rope myself a doctor that easily.
Dorothy: Honey, I don't think there's enough sugar left in the bowl.
Lucy: In fact, I'm supposed to meet him in a half hour, if that's OK.
Blanche: But darling, you just got here.
Lucy: Aunt Blanche, you always said, "If you've got a stallion eating oats out of your hand, best close the gate before you give him the sugar."
Dorothy: You said that, Blanche?
Lucy: I won't go if you don't want me to but I do want to go, so can I?
Blanche: Would your mother let you go?
Blanche: Then go.
Blanche: You're angry.
Rose: I am not.
Blanche: Yes, I can tell. When you're really angry, you purse your little lips so tight, they almost disappear. See?
Dorothy: [entering] Have her lips come out yet?
Blanche: Nope, she's still mad at me.
Rose: I'm not mad. But if I were, I'd have every reason to be.
Dorothy: Rose, come on now. You're about to swallow your chin.
Jerry: No, please let me explain the way I acted last night. My wife died two years ago. I really haven't dated since then. I wanted to get back into the swing of things, so I read up on what modern women want. You know, equality, pay their own way. I guess it's all got me confused.
Blanche: Oh, Jerry. Jerry, Jerry, Jerry. Come over here. Now, let me clear up any confusion you might have. I don't want to be treated as your equal.
Jerry: You don't?
Blanche: I want to be treated a lot better than you. I mean, really. Like a goddess who likes to go bar hopping.
Rose: This is Rose Nylund. We're here chatting with my good friend Dorothy Zbornak. Welcome, Dorothy.
Dorothy: Hello. It's a pleasure to be here.
Rose: So, can you tell me what it- Oh. So tell me, Dorothy, what's it like being a substitute teacher?
Dorothy: Rose, honey, excuse me, but I think you should take another tack. I'm not saying that my job is boring-
Sophia: Say it, Dorothy. Say it.
Dorothy: No, I just feel you should ask more probing questions.
Rose: Okey-dokey. Let's see. Ah. Isn't it a fact that you have a drawer full of retirement home brochures and you're just waiting for the first sign of dribble on your mother's chin to lock her away forever?
Dorothy: [laughs] She- She's kidding. [laughs]
Rose: Your sock drawer, Dorothy. You know, the- The one you-know-who can't reach?
Sophia: I knew you were keeping pictures there, but I had no idea. You disgust me.
Blanche: I used to attract men who were young and active and virile, but now they just want to date girls in their 20s and 30s. What's a great-looking gal in her 40s to do?
Dorothy: Perhaps we should find one and ask her.
Dorothy: I thought you were both asleep. Why are you just getting in?
Blanche: Because the justice system in America is an imperfect and sluggish piece of antiquated machinery.
Rose: We were in the slammer.
Blanche: Our cute little "pals" stole some merchandise and made us the fall guys.
Rose: We have to appear in court at noon tomorrow.