Dorothy: Why must you always make such a big deal out of everything?
Sophia: Who's making a big deal out of it? I'm not making a big deal out of it.
Barbara: Hi!
Blanche: Hi, Barbara.
Barbara: We got a call at the police station about lost glasses.
Sophia: You got my message. How many men you got on this?
Barbara: Well, none really. I did check, and nobody reported any lost glasses.
Sophia: Not lost. Stolen. I want cops on this. Big, burly, steroid-crazed cops.
Blanche: Oh. Sophia!
Sophia: Oh, fine. Get one for Blanche, too. Throw it on my tab.

[Sophia enters the kitchen wearing a large pair of black sunglasses]
Dorothy: Ladies and gentlemen, Roy Orbison. Ma, where did you get those glasses?
Sophia: They're an old pair of Pop's, but at least they've got prescription lenses.
Dorothy: I know you can't possibly see through them. Now, take them off before you hurt yourself.
Sophia: No, they're great. I see just fine. Who's the black guy?

Blanche: Oh, my God.
Dorothy: Oh, did I mention her last name was Feldman?
Blanche: Aw, no. Oh, no, no, no. No, it can't be. I can't be Jewish.
Sophia: I'll be damned. The black guy is prejudiced.

Miles: Well, I'm sorry, ladies. It's me. I was hoping to play a trick on you.
Sophia: Silly Rabbi, tricks are for kids.

Sophia: Hey, these are all right. When I look through them backwards, you actually look demure.
Dorothy: Ma, get new glasses, all right?

Dorothy: Well, I hate telling you this, Blanche. No, that's not true. I look forward to telling you this, Blanche. The woman your great-grandfather married was born, well, outside of Georgia.
Blanche: How far outside of Georgia?
Dorothy: Buffalo. You're a Yankee, Blanche.
Blanche: Well, no, this can't be.
Dorothy: A Yankee Doodle.
Blanche: There must be some mistake.
Dorothy: You are that Yankee Doodle gal.

Blanche: Let me see the certificate. I want to see with my own eyes that my great-grandmother was that thing you said.
Dorothy: A Yankee.
Blanche: Right.
Dorothy: A Yankee Doodle.
Blanche: Oh, stop it.

Blanche: This information will have no bearing on my getting into the "Daughters of the Old South." I'll just lie.
Dorothy: Oh, Blanche, this is ridiculous. Why should you have to lie? You're only one-eighth Yankee.
Blanche: That's right. I'm seven-eighths' Southern. That's more than enough.
Dorothy: And if they don't let you in, instead of saying "fiddle-di-doo," well, you can always switch to Deedle didle deedle dum.

Rose: I wish I could tell you, but I really don't know anything about him anymore. When I knew him, he was a professor at a college.
Karl: That's hard to believe.
Rose: Well, that's one of the few places they have professors.

Rose: Listen, check with me later about the weekend. I just want to be sure I'm ready, and that it's right.
Karl: I'll give you a ring.
Rose: I can't accept jewelry.
Karl: I mean, I'll call you soon. I mean, I'll call you, Rose, soon. And the phone will ring.