Meemaw: You know, Moon Pie, in the '60s, when the hippies wanted to change things, they would just protest.
Missy: You were a hippie?
Meemaw: Oh, no. But I wrote a letter complaining about the hippies, and the police chased 'em right out of that park. So my point is maybe you could write a letter.

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.

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.

Sheldon: Meemaw? I assume you've read the Surgeon General's report on the dangers of smoking?
Meemaw: I'm gonna wait till they turn it into a movie.

Sheldon: Mr. Givens, I just wanted you to know that I'm still working hard on my campaign to get more funding for the science department.
Mr. Givens: Oh, great, 'cause I've got to dig up tomorrow's worms myself.

Principal Petersen: [screams]
Sheldon: [screams]
Principal Petersen: What are you doing, standing there?
Sheldon: I wrote a formal complaint letter to the school board on how much money is spent on football. I was hoping you could deliver it to them.
Principal Petersen: You do realize your father's a coach here.
Sheldon: Yes, sir, I do.
Principal Petersen: Maybe you ought to talk to him about this first.
Sheldon: I did. He didn't care for the idea at all.
Principal Petersen: Well, there you go.
Sheldon: There I go what?
Principal Petersen: Let me see that. "Barbaric sport encourages bloodlust similar to Roman gladiator games Christians, lions money better spent on science and learning." You're joking, right?
Sheldon: Did you see the word "bazinga" anywhere in that letter?
Principal Petersen: Out.

Sheldon: Hello, I'd like to speak to the mayor, please. My name is Sheldon Cooper. I'm running for class president and was hoping he could give me some advice. I'm ten years old. But if it helps get him on the phone, I'm well-behaved, a straight-A student, and have impeccable hygiene.