George Sr.: Let's go for it.
Assistant Coach Wilkins: Why? We got plenty of time.
George Sr.: I know. Still want to go for it.
Assistant Coach Wilkins: We're on the 12-yard line. Everybody know you punt.
George Sr.: Why does everybody knowing something make it right?

George Sr.: It's solar-powered. Can you imagine that?

Mary: I hope that doesn't wake up the kids.
George Sr.: Should I go over there and say something?
Mary: I think you should.
George Sr.: I was bluffin'. Don't make me put my socks back on.

Mary: I feel bad about yelling at Georgie.
George Sr.: He deserved it. You should do it more.

George Sr.: Hey. Got to go pick up some equipment for the team; you want to join me?
George Jr.: Can't. I'm grounded.
George Sr.: Yeah, well I won't tell if you won't.
George Jr.: Sheldon going?
George Sr.: That little snitch? Absolutely not.
George Jr.: Sheldon still gonna help you with the math?
George Sr.: I don't think so. But I did hear his little Asian friend can do it.

George Sr.: It's late. What are you doing up?
Sheldon: I'm working on the hyperbolic calculations for a rocket return.
George Sr.: Need any help?
Sheldon: What?
George Sr.: I'm kiddin'.

George Sr.: Go!
Sheldon: And you're surprised I have an ulcer.
George Sr.: I'm surprised I don't have one.

Dr. Eberland: Um, Radio Shack?
Mary: He's trying to figure out how to help NASA land rockets.
Dr. Eberland: Oh. Well, that's a nice thing.
George Sr.: He's just doing it out of spite.

Missy: Mom.
Mary: What?
Missy: There's something wrong with Sheldon again.
Sheldon: I figured it out! I figured it out!
George Sr.: One night. I want to sleep one night.

Sheldon: Dad?
George Sr.: Yeah?
Sheldon: Thank you.
George Sr.: You're welcome.

George Sr.: Yeah, I don't mean to be rude, but we've been waitin' for an hour to see your boss.
Mrs. Veazey: I'm sorry, sir, but you didn't have an appointment.
George Sr.: We didn't have an appointment 'cause every time I called, you put me on hold.

George Sr.: I might make it this weekend.
Mary: Or you could try a vegetable.
George Sr.: Vegetable? That's funny.

George Sr.: I'll be right back.
George Jr.: Mind if I have a sip of your beer?
George Sr.: You mind if I dip your head in the compost heap?
George Jr.: You could have just said no.

George Jr.: What are you doing?
George Sr.: [GASPS] Nothing! Get out of here.
George Jr.: You're looking for her brisket recipe.
George Sr.: All of a sudden you got smart? I said get out of here.

Meemaw: Hey.
George Sr.: What do you want?
Meemaw: Don't be that way. I brought you a cold one.
George Sr.: Thanks. I still don't like you.

Butcher: Can I help you?
George Sr.: Matter of fact, you can. You pull them all together I need 12 pounds of prime Angus with a medium deckle, ideally slaughtered in the spring, no later than mid-June.

George Sr.: Could you grind my root for me? I-I'm-a I'm-a rub it on brisket.

George Sr.: Connie, you evil bitch!

George Sr.: I don't want this woman in my house anymore.
Mary: She is my mother.
George Sr.: She is the devil.

George Sr.: Hey. I get it. I have a daughter. I wouldn't want her bringing home someone like that. But I've come a hell of a long way since then.
Meemaw: Okay, you're right. George, I'm sorry.
George Sr.: That means more to me than any recipe. Come here.