Tam: Hey, I've been looking all over for you. Do you know how popular we are?
Sheldon: We?
Tam: Yeah. I put the word out I was helping you with the football stats. And since I'm Asian, they bought it.

Mary: You smoke marijuana?
Sheldon: Mom!
Libby: No, ma'am.
Tam: Just say no. [Mary shoots him an unimpressed look]

Tam: Look at this, my mother left me a note. "You can do better. Mom." Not "Love, Mom," not "XO, Mom," just "Mom."

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.

George Jr.: Fourth down.
George Sr.: Gotta punt.
Missy: Gotta.
Sheldon: Statistically, always punting on fourth down makes no sense.
George Jr.: Statistically, you're a dumbass.

Adult Sheldon: In Texas, the Holy Trinity is God, football and barbeque, not necessarily in that order.

Sheldon: Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it.
Tam: You're not?
Sheldon: I was touched 82 times this afternoon.
Tam: What do you mean, "touched"?
Sheldon: Not inappropriately. Joyfully. Affectionately. A cheerleader hugged me to her bosom.
Tam: That's amazing. [goes to high five Sheldon]
Sheldon: No more high fives. I can't keep washing my hands.