Karl: No one moves and no one makes a sound. We all stand still until they leave.
[Sophia, sans glasses, enters from the kitchen and heads for the front door]
Karl: Don't make a move, old lady.
Sophia: Nice way to talk to your mother, Pussycat.

Sophia: It's great. I can finally see again. Hey, it's the Cheeseman. Come on, get in here, both of ya.
Blanche: Sophia, you recognize Karl as the Cheeseman?
Sophia: You don't? The man's been on America's Most Wanted at least six times.
Karl: The last episode was the highest rated ever. Ever.
Dorothy: That must be a good feeling.

Rose: I hate to interrupt you, but I have some bad news. It's all over. That's right, you're busted. Barbara's a cop.
Barbara: In a dress, without a gun. So, basically, what you have here is a crossing-guard thing.
Karl: All right, all you gals are gonna get locked up in a closet, and us boys are going for a little walk.
Sophia: Wow. Were you ever activities director of a place called Shady Pines?

Miles: Rose, it's over. I'm a free man. I can be with you now, if that's still what you want.
Rose: Oh, that's all I've ever wanted. But you have to promise me never to leave me again.
Miles: Well, sweetheart, I might have to for a little while. Back on my farm in Pennsylvania, I still have an order in for 13 windmills. Oh, screw 'em. What are they gonna do, phone?

Blanche: Oh, and look here, Dorothy. This is my grandmother Marcelle Daboval. Pure Southern, through and through.
Dorothy: Oh, Blanche, I'm sorry. I just don't like the idea of this club. I mean, it seems so discriminatory.
Blanche: Dorothy, there is nothing wrong with being proud of what you are. This club celebrates those individuals who can prove they come from 100% Southern Confederate stock. And if you can't, then fiddle-di-doo to you.