Georgie: Did you know she puts vanilla extract in her whipped cream?
George: I did not.
Georgie: Quarter teaspoon.
George: Georgie?
Georgie: Yeah?
George: We're looking for brisket!
Georgie: Cranky.

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

Georgie: Maybe you should go across the street and apologize.
George: I can't do that.
Georgie: Why not?
George: 'Cause if I do, it sets a bad precedent.
Georgie: What's Nixon got to do with it?
George: What?
Georgie: You said "bad president," like Nixon. You know, this guy.

Georgie: Okay, in my defense...
Meemaw: You have no defense. You're an idiot.
Georgie: That was a big part of my defense.

Adult Sheldon: The average American consumes 55 pounds of beef per year. And then there's Texas, where we can knock that off in a couple of months. Maybe faster, if we're talking about smoked brisket. Curiously, the one cut of beef that Texans and Jews agree upon.

George: I don't want this woman in my house anymore.
Mary: She is my mother.
George: She is the devil.

Adult Sheldon: Finally, the cooking began. 14 hours of cooking. And basting. And spritzing. And tending to the fire.
George: Oh. Rest, my darling. Rest.