Rose: Dorothy, you're leader. What are you going to do?
Dorothy: My first official act is to banish you from my kingdom. Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I know you meant well.
Rose: I'm not crying about the comment. I'm crying because we're dying and I still have so many things to tell you.
Blanche: Like what?
Rose: Like... once I read your diary.
Blanche: You what?
Rose: Well, it was an accident. You left it open on the kitchen table. I was 20 pages in before I realized it wasn't a Sidney Sheldon novel.

Blanche: Rose Nylund, I want you out of my house this instant.
Dorothy: Blanche.
Blanche: Oh, well I'll never speak to you again as long as I live.
Dorothy: And since we have no water, that means about another 48 hours.
Blanche: Well, since we're gonna die anyway, I might as well be honest, too. Rose. I slept with your cross-eyed cousin Nolan when he visited us from Ohio. And he was lousy in bed.
Rose: I knew about that a long time ago. Nolan told me. He said you were the one that was lousy.

Blanche: Well, since we're being honest, Dorothy, I have a question for you. You're supposed to be my best friend. Best friends should be able to confide in one another. So I want to know why I overheard you on the telephone telling Anita Ruebaker that I had my tubes tied?
Dorothy: I said you bought a tube top. When did you have your tubes tied?
Blanche: I didn't. But if I had, it would have been about the same time you had your nose done.

Dorothy: You see? That's exactly why Rose didn't want to tell you. You are overly critical. I think that's the thing I like least about you.
Blanche: Oh, you know the thing I like least about you? You are loud and overbearing.
Rose: Well, you know what I like least about both of you? You're always telling me what to do.
Dorothy & Blanche: Oh, shut up, Rose.

Dorothy: Ma, please. If not, I'll spend my entire vacation worrying about you.
Sophia: Dorothy, I'll be fine. In fact, it'll be nice to have the house to myself. I can vacuum in the nude. Now, get out of here.

Dorothy: To begin with, Mr Decourville, in here it says that every room has an ocean view. Now, where is ours?
Jacques Decourville: Give me it. Come here, Kiddo. Here, over here. Stick your head out of the window. Look to the extreme left and what do you see?
Rose: Two guys beating up an old lady.
Jacques Decourville: Beyond that.
Rose: The ocean.
Jacques Decourville: I rest my case.
Dorothy: Now, wait. Wait. You call that an ocean view? You have to be a contortionist to see.
Jacques Decourville: Hey, it doesn't say "great ocean view".

Dorothy: I never had my nose done. Rose is the one who had it done. Whoops. Sorry, Rose.
Blanche: I don't believe you two kept that secret from me. Rose, why didn't you tell me?
Rose: Well, you're always so critical about those kinds of things.
Blanche: I am not.
Rose: I'm sorry.
Blanche: How much did it cost you?
Rose: $700.
Blanche: Boy, you were gypped.

Rose: And the resort is gorgeous. Look here. Isn't that beautiful? You can have the king-size bed.
Sophia: There's already two people in it.

Sophia: Mr. Mitsumo. Hi, Mr. Mitsumo. I've been meaning to tell you you did a lovely job getting rid of the snails.
It's nice not crunching when I go to the mailbox. So, did I mention that my daughter and her roommates have just left on vacation? They'll be gone for five days. Anyway, I notice we're always smiling at each other. So I was thinking now that we have a little privacy, maybe sometime we could smile and talk over a glass of Tang or something.
Mr. Mitsumo: Tang.
Sophia: Tang is not the catchword here. What I mean is, I think you're very nice and I thought we kind of liked each other, you and me. This is very embarrassing. You don't understand a word I'm saying.
Mr. Mitsumo: Understand. Little.
[Sophia and Mr. Mitsumo sit down together on the couch]

Dorothy: This place is like a sweatbox. Oh, great. The air conditioner's not working.
Rose: Who needs air conditioning? We have a fresh ocean breeze and a breathtaking view.
Blanche: We have no view.
Ramone: When the revolution comes, and the heads of Imperialist swine are impaled on sticks stuck in the sand for people to spit on, you'll be glad you don't got a view.