Dale: Cooper, what is the problem?
Missy: The ball isn't going where it's supposed to.
Dale: I saw that.
Missy: What am I doing wrong?
Dale: Just a little case of the yips. It happens.
Missy: What's that?
Dale: The yips... you know, it's when you're thinking about stuff in your head and something you've done a million times, you can't do it anymore. Even the pros get it.
Missy: How do I get rid of it?
Dale: Uh, just don't think about it.
Missy: Okay. [sighs]
Dale: Don't think, just throw. [Missy pitches] [crowd groans] I hate the little people.

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.

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.

Meemaw: I got to go open up the gambling room. Can you watch her for about an hour?
Dale: I just had coffee and a bowl of Raisin Bran. Next hour is spoken for.
Meemaw: You could've just said no.
Dale: I'm trying to keep the romance alive.

George: All right, almost there. Hand me a screwdriver.
Billy Sparks: Don't stick this in an outlet. It really tingles.
Brenda Sparks: We had an incident.

Adult Sheldon: Of all the tests one takes in school, my favorite was the midterm. Finals weren't bad, but they also meant summer was approaching. I don't believe in religion, but sunshine, picnics and pool parties are proof hell exists.

Umpire: Strike!
Missy: Yes!
Dale: Aw, don't get all hysterical, little girl!
Missy: You suck!
Dale: You suck!
Missy: No! You suck!
Umpire: Strike!
Dale: I am the leader of the little people.