Adult Sheldon: I'm very much a creature of habit. Perhaps it's a trait I got from my father. Every night he would go through the mail, and every night, like clockwork, he would get very cranky.
George Sr.: Damn bills.
Mary: George.
Adult Sheldon: You'd think he'd get used to it, but night after night it upset him all over again.
George Sr.: Jury duty? Son of a...
Mary: George.
Adult Sheldon: It was complicated. I didn't like seeing him upset, but what can you do? I love consistency.

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

Sheldon: Dad, do you believe that fossils are millions of years old?
George Sr.: I guess. Why?
Sheldon: Well, Mom believes the world was only created 6,000 years ago.
George Sr.: Yeah. So?
Sheldon: Are these differences a sticking point in your marriage?
George Sr.: Not at all.
Sheldon: Why?
George Sr.: Simple. We never talk about it.
Sheldon: So you just avoid discussing topics you don't agree on?
George Sr.: At all costs.

Meemaw: I bowled a new high score last night.
George Sr.: Nice.
Meemaw: I got two turkeys.
Missy: What's a turkey?
Meemaw: It's three strikes in a row.
Missy: Why do they call it a turkey?
Meemaw: Well, when they first invented bowling, they used to just throw frozen turkeys at the pins. Eventually, they switched to balls to cut down on the smell.
George Sr.: Why you lying to her?
Meemaw: I find it keeps my mind sharp.

George Sr.: Should we get started?
Malcolm Green: Yes.
Adult Sheldon: I realize some people may find the ins and outs of tax law a little tedious, so allow me to spice this story up. Instead of an audit, imagine this is a showdown between two warriors in the most brutal and exciting form of combat there is... chess. Am I the only one who just got chills?
[fantasy:]
Malcolm Green: Let's start with the business deductions from Schedule A on the tax return dated 1989.
Adult Sheldon: I know, bold opening move. Don't worry, I came to play.
Sheldon: Happy to. I've got those receipts right here. Dated, highlighted... and itemized.
Adult Sheldon: Told you. For the next three hours, we battled it out. Two mighty brains locked in mortal tax code combat.
Malcolm Green: Justify this expense.
Sheldon: Our AGI was less than $50,000.
Malcolm Green: Improper classification.
Sheldon: Rolled over from the previous fiscal year.
Malcolm Green: The receipt has barbecue sauce on it.
Sheldon: Dad.
George Sr.: Sorry.

Meemaw: I'll have the rib eye, medium rare.
Waiter: And for you?
Dale: Uh, just the house salad, please.
Waiter: Very good.
Meemaw: House salad? You watching your figure?
Dale: I have a physical tomorrow.
Meemaw: Oh, so your plan is to start eating healthy now?
Dale: Can't hurt.
Meemaw: It ain't gonna undo years of red meat and beer.
Dale: I'm not trying to undo it, I'm just trying to hide it under some lettuce.

Dale: Well, you're not a fan of doctors, huh?
Meemaw: They never have good news. They just want to find something wrong.
Dale: It's kind of their job.
Meemaw: If something's wrong with me, I don't want to know about it.
Dale: That's dumb.
Meemaw: No, it's not. If I'm gonna drop dead, I'd rather do it quick and leave lookin' good.