Mary: Listen, I'm gonna need your help with something.
Meemaw: Is it about money?
Mary: No.
Meemaw: Then I'm your gal.

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.

Tam: Spending the Thanksgiving weekend working in my family's convenience store, I observed my father and mother working from 6:00 in the morning till 10:00 at night. My hypothesis was that economic advancement for immigrant families is more important than celebrating a holiday where people eat until they pass out in front of the TV.
Mr. Givens: All right, Tam. Well, based on your observations and hypothesis, were you able to make a prediction?
Tam: Yes. At some point, my father would die prematurely from stress. And my mother will come live with me, where she will constantly disapprove of my hot, blonde, American wife.
Mr. Givens: Okay. Uh, I think we all learned something there. Uh, thank you, Tam.

Adult Sheldon: In tenth grade, high school students are presented with picking a class of their own choosing. This is called an elective. Courses on offer included wood shop, I'm happy with ten fingers, thank you; introduction to agriculture, I think you know the answer to that; wrestling, I'd rather milk that cow. All of which led me to the elective I reluctantly chose, Psychology 101, an investigation into why people think and feel the way they do.

George: Hey, Georgie, you have any sentimental attachment to this town?
Georgie: I don't know, why?
George: I'm just curious if, you know, we ever did pick up and live somewhere else, how you'd feel about it.
Georgie: Well, if it was Hawaii, I'd feel pretty great. That's where they make Magnum, P.I.
George: I don't think Hawaii's in the cards.
Georgie: How about Miami?
George: Let me guess, 'cause of Miami Vice?
Georgie: Golden Girls.
George: Course.
Sheldon: Car.
Georgie: I saw this one where Blanche dates this little guy who breaks up with her 'cause she's not Jewish. So good.
George: Forget about Miami and Hawaii and Blanche.