Michael: [after seeing her sniff a line of cocaine] What kind of dinner is that?
Joannie: [Roslyn and Joannie lean against a ledge by the beach] Listen, Roslyn, I've been thinking.
Roslyn: After what I just heard, you are not thinking.
Joannie: Come on, come on. This is serious. This is our lives, not some dress rehearsal.
[gets up and begins to pace]
Joannie: I'm tired of being some slave. I spent my whole life watching my mother cook and clean, never leave the house, never leave the valley. She died looking a hundred. She was only 45. She started out just like us - love in Hollywood High. Next thing you know, there's no money, no love, nothing. She raised all of us. So what? She broke her ass like a Mexican maid, and maybe every two weeks, she'd scrape together a few pennies for a hair set and wash, reading her Hollywood magazines for her high on Hollywood Boulevard next to the studios.
[goes back over to Roslyn ans sits next to her]
Joannie: Big... deal.
Roslyn: You're having an affair, aren't you?
Joannie: We have to live before we die. We're kids playing mothers to kids. And that includes our so-called husbands.
Lorraine: [sighs] Well, Michael, hardly any of my friends, probably none, were married at 18 and had a kid at 19. That's got to be hard.
Michael: Well, you live with those sick beatniks in Venice. Most of my friends who grew up with me are married. That's how we all became men.
Lorraine: We're not sick. We're just horny.
Joannie: Did Michael ever get home last night?
Joannie: No nookie again, huh?
Roslyn: Joannie, please! Sex is a very private affair.
Joannie: Not mine!
Roslyn: Sure your husband wouldn't mind?
Joannie: Who's talking Bobby?
Michael: [watching television when the phone rings] Hello?
Joey: [on the other end of the phone] I'm gonna take her clothes off real slow... till she's begging for it. And then I'm only going to give it to her... when she admits that you're a piece of sh -
[Michael quickly hangs the phone up]
The Greek: [Joey has just convinced Roslyn to meet him at the diner] He's fucking Gary Cooper. I mean, he's not fucking Gary Cooper. He's Gary Cooper.
Brenda: Oh, Joey... ease up. I'm not pregnant. I'd never bring another one of you bastards in this world.
Roslyn: I guess you're not coming up, huh, Michael?
Michael: No. I guess we're not going steady anymore, Roslyn.
Michael: I think there's more to life than what we've been living.