Meemaw: You're not gonna get much out of Fred and Wilma here. Why don't you just get crackin' on the kids?

Mary: Mom, can you make the salad?
Meemaw: Sure.
George: Hey, don't put in any of those little tomatoes.
Meemaw: Hey, I don't tell you how to impersonate a lump of clay. You don't tell me how to make a salad.

Georgie: Hey, now that you're treating him like an adult, can I have his allowance?
George: That allowance is for chores, which you already don't do.
Georgie: Come on. We all know I'm your favorite.
Meemaw: You're not even his third favorite.

Meemaw: I know this is hard for everyone. It's certainly hard for me. But no one... is more upset with George's passing than the Lone Star Beer company. That flag is at half-mast. [laughter] On the other hand, there's a lot of cows out there that are breathing a sigh of relief. As the king of brisket has put down his fork and ridden off into the sunset. [laughter] And, uh, I'll tell you something...
Missy: Why are they laughing at Dad?
Georgie: 'Cause they love him.
Meemaw: ...that I always kind of kept to myself, but... I wasn't always a big supporter of George and Mary being an item. As a matter of fact, whenever he came to visit, I would always invite Mary's slutty friend Janice over, hoping to catch his interest. [laughter] Hey, Janice. Thanks for coming. You're a doll. [Dale looks back] Anyway... George only had eyes for Mary. And of course brisket. [laughter] And over the years, he surely earned my respect. He was a good man. [voice breaking] And I will always be proud... to call him my son.

Dr. Edward Pilson: Anything else?
Sheldon: What exactly are we doing here? I thought the purpose of this study was to find out how smart I am.
Dr. Edward Pilson: That's what we're doing, but there are different kinds of intelligence.
Sheldon: Poppycock! There's only one kind of intelligence.

George: Listen, why don't we just go there this Saturday and give it a try?
Mary: And if you don't like it, we don't have to do it again.
George: Or they'll love it, and they'll do it till they're 18, 19 years old.
Sheldon: I already love it.
George: My man. Missy? I believe there might be a Dairy Queen on the way there.
Missy: Can I get an Oreo Blizzard?
George: You know what I think? I think you're smarter than him.

Sheldon: A lion sitting in a chair, holding a pipe.
Dr. Edward Pilson: Good. But what do you think is on his mind?
Sheldon: How should I know? Maybe he's wondering why he's posing for a silly picture instead of eating a gazelle.