Mary: Come here. I know you don't believe in this, but I'm gonna do it anyway. Lord, I pray for my son Sheldon that you protect him from all illness and disease, and keep him healthy and keep him safe, and protect him from his head to his toes, inside and out. Amen.
Sheldon: You're right. I don't believe in that. But it did feel good. Thanks.
Mary: In the Bible, that's called a hedge of protection.

Sheldon: Regardless, I'm not interested in making any more friends.
Mary: Oh, I don't think that's how you really feel.
Sheldon: It is. From now on, it's a hermit's life for me.
Mary: I bet, when you grow up, you will be surrounded by lots of smart, wonderful friends.
Sheldon: I can't see that happening.

Sheldon: Mom, when should I be expecting my testicles?
Woman: [turns around] What is wrong with him?
Mary: Nothing is wrong with him. Now turn around before I knock your lights out.
Sheldon: Hello.

Mary: Sheldon Lee Cooper, if you don't finish that pork chop, I swear I will chew it up and spit it in your mouth like a mama bird.
Missy: Do it, Mom. Do it.

George Jr.: I think the saddest part about it is just how sad it is.

Adult Sheldon: As you can see, my meemaw successfully lured me back into the world by reminding me of my brave Texas ancestors. Their blood ran through my veins. I was a true son of the Lone Star State. Albeit a true son with an incredibly fragile immune system. I woke up the next morning with a temperature of 102 and a head packed full of mucus.

Meemaw: Mind if I take a crack at catching the Road Runner?
Mary: What are you gonna do that I couldn't do?
Meemaw: Oh, a little trick I learned trying to get prairie dogs out of the hole. Of course we'd whack off their heads with a golf club. I'm not gonna do that to Sheldon.