Bruce Willis: [on TV] Yippee-Ki-Yay, Mr. Falcon.
Missy: Wait, who is Mr. Falcon?
George Jr.: No one.
Missy: Then why'd he say it?
George Jr.: Well, in the real version, he said a bad word, but they had to change it for TV.
Missy: TV is so lame. What did he really say? [Georgie whispers in Missy's ear] That's so much better.
George Jr.: This movie works on a lot of levels.

George Jr.: I think the saddest part about it is just how sad it is.

George Jr.: What are you doing?
George Sr.: Separating the whites from the colors.
George Jr.: Whoa, that's racist.

George Jr.: So, Vietnam, like in Rambo.
Tam: Yes.
George Jr.: That's a cool movie.
Tam: Yes.
George Jr.: Are you in it?
Tam: No.

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.

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.

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.