President Hagemeyer: So... how do we get your son to cooperate?
George: I've been asking myself that since day one.
President Hagemeyer: Look, I don't mean to put pressure on you, but there's a lot of pressure on me, so I'm going to put it on you.
George: Look, I'm sorry, isn't there anyone else who can go to dinner with this guy?
President Hagemeyer: So I have a unicorn in my zoo, but I should trot out a goat, is that what you're saying? Would you donate a new library to have dinner with a goat?
George: What restaurant?
President Hagemeyer: Mr. Cooper, I need you to understand something. This university relies on donations for everything. For upkeep, for salaries, for scholarships, like the one your son is currently on.
George: I'll talk to him.
President Hagemeyer: Thank you. And when you go to dinner, wear real pants.

Mary: So he's really good to graduate?
Principal Petersen: He sure is. I got to tell ya, usually when kids leave school after two years, it's not for college. It's for prison or pregnancy.
George: Well, between Georgie and Missy, we may hit the trifecta.
Mary: George!
George: Well, I'm not rooting for it. It's just a thing that could happen.

Georgie: You know what else is nice?
George: Hmm?
Georgie: I get to learn from all your parenting mistakes.
George: I'm starting to think letting you live this long was one of 'em.
Georgie: Like that. I'd never say something so awful to my kid. [George scoffs] Thanks, big guy.

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.

Meemaw: Where we eating tonight?
Dale: Well, that depends. Why don't you look in the glovebox and check on the Tums situation.
Meemaw: There's five.
Dale: Oh, my, this is tricky. Well, Mexican's at least three apiece.
Meemaw: We might get by with two each if it's Italian.
Dale: You get red wine and then tomato sauce. Hey, if they put lemon in the water, we're dead.
Meemaw: Hmm. That leaves barbecue.
Dale: Sold.
Meemaw: Who gets Tum number three?
Dale: Me. They're my Tums.

Georgie: See? They ain't allowed to dance, either.
Missy: It's like I'm watching my life.
Georgie: That's how I feel when I'm watching Top Gun.

Dale: Now, what do you think young people talk about on their dates?
Meemaw: I don't know. But my knee's telling me it's gonna rain this weekend.