The Mirror Has Two Faces

Rose Morgan:
When my date takes me home and kisses me good night, if I don't hear the philharmonic in my head, I dump him.

Rose Morgan:
What, what? Yes, I have breasts. They cannot, however, be the subject of one of your papers.

Rose Morgan:
It's not a date. We're just agreeing to eat at the same table.

Rose Morgan:
By the way, would telling you now that I want sex tonight be enough of a warning?

Rose Morgan:
Let's face it. They're not standing in line for me.

Rose Morgan:
To tell you the truth, I think your theories about relationships are total bullshit.

Rose Morgan:
I believe in love and lust and sex and romance. I don't want everything to add up to some perfect equation. I want mess and chaos. I want someone to go crazy out of his mind for me. I want to feel passion and heat and sweat and madness. I want Valentines and Cupids and all the rest of that crap. I want it all.

Rose Morgan:
I love it if someone knew me. Really knew me. What I like, what I'm afraid of. What kind of toothpaste I use. I think that will be wonderful.

Gregory Larkin:
I want to be upfront with you. I am not interested in sex.

Gregory Larkin:
I don't care if you're pretty, I love you anyway!

Gregory Larkin:
The mathematical world is completely rational, uncomplicated by sex.

Claire Morgan:
You are the mother of the bride, not the opening act.

Claire Morgan:
Now you spend an extra hour in front of the mirror every morning and every night. And now you'll be the one to walk into a room and scan it for who looks better than you and who doesn't. And as the years go by, the numbers change. One day you'll walk into a room and you're the last woman any man notices.

Claire Morgan:
Mother, the only thing you ever taught me about the Sabbath is that Bergdorf's wouldn't be as crowded.

Rose:
Why don't you get the coffee?

Hannah:
I've buried a husband, I've raised two daughters. I've made my coffee.

Rose:
Look at me, I'm a grown woman in a prom dress.

Claire:
Oh, please. You look adorable.

Rose:
Adorable? I look like an over-the-hill Barbie Doll. It doesn't fit right, it's too tight.

Claire:
Too many Sno Balls.

Rose:
Why didn't you pick something looser and in my color?

Claire:
Because Maids of Honor don't wear black.

Claire:
Your hair looks good, the curls work. Why don't you get a perm?

Rose:
I tried that once, I looked like Shirley Temple on crack.

Claire:
Now you listen to me!

Rose:
Take it easy, Claire!

Claire:
Now, I want you to get up there and remember that this is MY day... and if you don't behave yourself, I'm gonna have your birth certificate blown up as a Christmas card!

Hannah:
I should never have encouraged you to speak.