Mary: Good morning, Peg.
Peg: Any morning you wake up is a good morning.

Peg: Hey, little man. How you doing?
Sheldon: You smell like cigarettes.
Peg: You're fun.
Sheldon: Do you know what this binder is?
Peg: It's a record of donations people make to the church.
Sheldon: This data could easily be transferred into a computerized spreadsheet. Why isn't it?
Peg: No idea.
Sheldon: You also smell like mothballs and Ben-Gay. [Peg turns and walks away] Bye.

Missy: "Steak aw poyverwith fritties"?
Dr. John Sturgis: It's French.
Missy: Oh. What's a crock monster?
Dr. John Sturgis: It's croque monsieur, and it's really just a grilled cheese sandwich with ham.
Missy: I want that.

George: So, uh, who do you think the Oilers are gonna take in the draft?
Pastor Jeff: Oh, I don't really follow sports.
George: I'm just gonna eat.

Mary: I thought you were hanging out with Veronica tonight.
Georgie: We were supposed to, but then she invited a bunch of her choir friends over, and it turned into a stupid Bible study. No offense.
Pastor Jeff: None taken.

Georgie: Honestly, I do not understand the female mind.
Mary: Do something.
George: Georgie, why don't you go eat dinner in front of the TV?
Pastor Jeff: No, it's all right. Sounds like Georgie's having trouble navigating the perilous waters of a relationship. Believe me, I can understand.
Georgie: You having problems with your hot wife?
George: Maybe I'll go eat by the TV.

Meemaw: Dr. Sturgis and I are going to Louisiana, do a little gambling.
Sheldon: So a donation could be forth coming?
Meemaw: Don't jinx me.

Georgie: Veronica says I'm the nicest guy she knows. She also says she only wants to date nice guys. Does that mean she wants to date me?
Pastor Jeff: I bet she doesn't.
Georgie: No, she does not. Doesn't make any sense.
Pastor Jeff: Nothing they do makes any sense.

Pastor Jeff: Except I'm feeling kicked in the nethers right now, and he sure is taking his sweet time with the healing.
George: He takes his sweet time about a lot of things. Uh, not that I'm complaining. You know, his will, not mine, et cetera.

George: You know, one thing I can say is that having a happy marriage is it's hard work.
Pastor Jeff: Oh, I know. As the pastor, people come to me with relationship problems all the time.
George: Bet you hear some juicy ones, huh?
Pastor Jeff: "Juicy" doesn't begin to describe it.
George: Oh, give me a sample.
Pastor Jeff: I can't. There's strict pastor-flock confidentiality.
George: Sure. Sure.
Pastor Jeff: Mm.
George: Mary doesn't tell you things about us, does she?
Pastor Jeff: I'm not at liberty to say.
George: But she does, doesn't she?
Pastor Jeff: Yeah.
George: Yeah.

Pastor Jeff: I have this feeling inside that I should head home.
Mary: Well, then you got to honor that feeling, that's God.
Pastor Jeff: You're right. You want to come with?
Mary: Do you really want me there while you patch things up with your wife?
Pastor Jeff: She's less likely to throw any steak knives if we have company.
Mary: Um, if you think it'll help, I suppose-
Pastor Jeff: Great, let's hit it.

Sheldon: Oh, hello, is this the Nelson residence? Oh, good. I'm Sheldon Cooper, the executive assistant secretary at the First Baptist Church of Medford. I'm looking through our donation records, and I've noticed that you've tapered off a bit. Well, yes, your children's education is expensive, but so is running a church. Oh, boy! I'll be sure to tell the pastor. Goodbye. [hangs up phone] That earned a sip of Yoo-hoo.

Pastor Jeff: Mary, I hate to say this, but I think it's time for me to move on. I thought even as a teenager, I'd been called to preach the word of God, but maybe that was just my ego. Maybe I'm not meant to do this.
Mary: Don't say that. You're a great preacher.
Pastor Jeff: Thank you. But it's clear. I need to trod a new path.
Mary: Well, what would you do? Trodding wise.
Pastor Jeff: I don't know. Maybe work with my hands amongst men, on an oil rig, or a fishing trawler. I also know how to blow glass. I could turn a pretty penny at swap meets.

Dr. John Sturgis: May I ask you a personal question?
Meemaw: Sure.
Dr. John Sturgis: Does your gambling constitute a problem?
Meemaw: Not today. Bam! Come on. Let me take you out to dinner.
Dr. John Sturgis: Don't forget that you promised Sheldon if you won, you'd donate to the church.
Meemaw: You want to see me get cranky again?
Dr. John Sturgis: No, I don't.
Meemaw: Well, let's go strap on some bibs and eat lobster.

Dr. John Sturgis: Connie I found an old-fashioned malt shop where we can have milkshakes and listen to the jukebox, like I never did in high school.