CC Bloom: OK, stay in. But will you at least get out of those pajamas? You've been in them for over a week.
Hillary: So what? Who the hell are you, the clothes police?
CC Bloom: It looks like a flamingo threw up in here.
CC Bloom: But enough about me, let's talk about you... what do you think of me?
Sadie Ratliff: You're in America now. Speak American.
Rose Shelton: I hate my job... I hate shopping... I hate New York in June. How about you?
Sadie Ratliff: I hate grits, and I hate men who smell like beer and bean dip, and I hate making love in the back of recreational vehicles!
Rose Shelton: I had other plans this evening.
Sadie Shelton: I know what your plans were, to hold up in your room and make love to the pastry cart. Now put down the éclair and get down there.
Sadie Shelton: I don't see how is it that you, my own sister, can stuff your face and nothing happens and I subsist on 60 calories a day or else blow up like a Macy's Day float.
Sadie Shelton: Do you want one of the board members to see you? They'll say you're a sniffling hysterical pre-periodic twit.
Rose Shelton: I have a right to my own feelings Sadie and I am not a twit. I may be pre-periodic and I may be hysterical. So what?
Sadie Shelton: So there are drugs for those things and we make most of them.
Sadie Shelton: Oh my God, how did I get so fat? I look like a walleyed salmon! What did he use a wide angle lens?
Sadie Ratliff: That's what the French call a bedet.
Rose Ratliff: Well, those French must be taller than me.
Chief Wyatt Rash: My mother always used to say, "When life hands you potatoes, make potato salad."
Mona Dearly: Yeah? Well life handed me a pile of shit. What am I supposed to do with that?
Phil Dearly: Make shit salad?
Mona Dearly: Don't call yourselves BJ Landscaping. You don't want people to go around calling you "Blow Job Landscaping."
Winifred: Oh, look. Another glorious morning. Makes me sick!
Billy Butcherson: Go to hell!
Winifred: Oh! I've been there, thank you. I found it quite lovely.
Winifred: You know, I've always wanted a child. And now I think I'll have one on toast!
Winifred Sanderson: Lock up your children! Yes, Salem, we're back.
