George: I turned it down.
Mary: Why?
Missy: 'Cause you're afraid of Mom?

George: And Sheldon's fine. You know what he's like. If someone took him, I'm sure they'll bring him right back.

Sheldon: There's going to be a lecture on carbon dating at the Natural Science Museum on Saturday. Who would like to take me?
George: You know what? I'd be happy to.
Meemaw: What happened to helping me at my yard sale?
George: Ooh, is that this Saturday? I'm sorry. I'm taking him to a lecture on, uh what is it? Carbonation?
Sheldon: Carbon dating. A method of determining the age of artifacts and fossils.
George: Hey, we could use that to figure out how old your grandma is.
Sheldon: That won't work. You can't carbon-date something that's alive.
George: Well, then, we'll just chop her down and count the rings.
Meemaw: Oh, George, did my "lump of clay" remark strike a nerve?
George: A little.

Georgie: A bill? Really?
George: Room and board, buddy.
Georgie: $50 a month for food?
George: The way you eat, I should've gone $50 a week.
Georgie: Laundry services?
George: Your poor mother has to touch your underwear.
Georgie: What's the $10 a month "peema" charge?
George: Oh, P-I-M-A, that's a "Pain in My Ass" tax. My way of getting compensated for you taking years off my life.

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, listen, something came up today that we need to talk about.
Mary: What's that?
George: I maybe have a shot at a better job.
Mary: Oh, George, they're finally gonna make you head coach?
George: Better than that. Special Teams Coach, University of Tulsa.
Mary: In Oklahoma?
George: That is where they're keeping Tulsa these days.